A house elf of a muggle family
by BeatriceL
Summary: Rita Skeeter publishes a controversial article on Harry Potter. In consequence, Severus Snape gets involved. Dursley-abuse!Reveal; Powerful!Harry Angest. (Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter)
1. Article

"He hated all this, and somehow he couldn't get away."  
― Joseph Conrad, _Heart of Darkness_

 _Chapter One_

Some may be critical; others may boldly insult or blatantly distrust the man. Despite the less then friendly glances from the students, other than the Slytherins of course, Professor Severus Snape marched proudly through the Great Hall towards his seat. Breakfast was already underway, and to his displeasure he had arrived at the most crowded time. The Hall was filled with several hundred hormonal brats. His only consolation were his bets on Quidditch with Minerva. Though, considering the desolate mood that had taken hold of the school, there was very little chance that Minerva, or anyone else, would be interested in lighter matters such as house points and Quidditch games.

A week had passed since the DA had revealed the Dark Lord's existance to the world. 'Just fantastic,' Severus glowered. His job was now harder than before. The Dark Lord was in a foul temper because of the failure at the Ministry. At the worst and best possible moment, Potter had finally managed to learn Occlumency and protect the prophecy from the Dark Lord.

Though the Potions Master would faster give a thousand points to Gryffindor than admit it, Severus wished that the boy had not needed to learn the advanced magic at all. Before, the boy's eyes had shone with emotion, whatever it may be. Now, even a smile from the annoying brat would have been preferable to the stone mask the child had worn since Black's death.

There was a month until summer holidays. The entire school seemed eager to stay out of Potter's way wherever he was around. It would have been comical watching the brave lions scamper off, too nervous to meet the boy's sullen gaze, if only his own Slytherins weren't busy doing the same. The Daily Prophet spoke non-stop about Potter these days, from his successes in defying the Dark Lord to his fight in the Department of Mysteries; his success at being an even match to Him.

The fact that Harry-bloody-Potter had managed to get the Dark Lord to back down, to give Him pause, had given hope to the British Magical Community, and as more reports came in, to magical communities the world over. Politicians were writing public apologies for turning a blind eye on Potter's words before. What they planned to achieve was lost on Severus, as he had witnessed Hermione Granger handing the buddle of expensive formal letters to her friend, only to have him drop them, unopened, into his soup after he had finished.

Severus gracefully took his seat. He saw Minerva's solemn look as she watched Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger having a heated discussion over the Silencio charm. Potter wasn't paying them the least bit of attention though. It seemed as though he was focused entirely on his meal. Snape would have mocked the brat another day, but not now, not today. Despite the power he had gained in the eyes of the public, Severus had never seen the teenager so vulnerable.

Potter had lost his godfather a week ago, and that must have taken some toll on him, but he had dozens of people fussing around him day and night. It wasn't as if he was going to be left alone to deal with his grief.

''I have never pitied the boy so much as I do now, Severus.'' Dumbledore's sudden presences almost made Snape jump. Almost.

''Why should I care?'' Severus responded with a raised eyebrow.

''Do not fool yourself, my boy. I know you see the same thing as I.'' There was no twinkle in the headmaster's gaze as he spoke. ''Harry has always had a pure heart. It is his most powerful quality over Voldemort, more than any magic he can ever perform.''

''I see no way in which Potter's hormones are going to scare the Dark Lord away.'' Severus replied skeptically. ''His emotions will only serve as weaknesses for the Dark Lord to exploit.''

''Yes and no. Harry's greatest quality is his kindness, a quality which has allowed others to put their trust in him, Severus. Despite all of the reports against Death Eater activity and all of the articles questioning his sanity in the past months, a group of students allowed him to train them, and then followed him into battle. Voldemort may not be frightened of an emotional teenager, but he would be a fool to discredit an powerful wizard whom thousands, dare I say millions, of people place their hope in.''

''Albus, it won't help Harry that people clap him on his back whilst hiding behind him.'' Minerva's angry brogue brought the two men out of their conversation.

''I do not say it would, Minerva. The ministry is finally being forced to take steps against the Dark Lord, and the official support of the Aurors will help greatly, but this does not change the view of Harry that the media is creating.''

The rest of the teachers listened to their argument and as it ended, so did the other conversations around the staff table. Severus slowly ate his food as he waited on the owls to deliver his Daily Prophet with the morning post.

Less than five minutes later, his copy of the Daily Prophet arrived. The only bizarre occurrence was that several hundred owls flew in though the grand windows, each carrying a copy of the Prophet. The students were rather overwhelmed by the amount of birds flying around, and in their excitement, fought to snag a copy of the paper so as to discover what had made so many parents send them in the first place. Even Potter acknowledged the odd presence of so many owls.

Severus felt uneasy as he unrolled the Prophet, expecting to find some violent attack caused by Death Eaters. His eyebrows rose when he saw the title of the article on the first page:

Harry Potter: A Boy Under the Stairs by Rita Skeeter

Severus glanced at the boy in question, noticing that he too had managed to get a copy of the Daily Prophet and was about to read it. He saw some students settling down to their reading, while other's noses were stuck to the page with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

Harry Potter, the fifteen year old student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and savior to the wizarding world. Best known as the Boy-who-Lived, he is also regarded as a brave and powerful wizard. He is the Chosen One. He is the youngest seeker in over a century, and it is to him that we owe You-Know-Who's hesitation in walking freely among us. But who is this boy with glasses and a lightening scar?

'He is the Boy-Who-Lived,' I've heard witchs and wizards say, but between You-Know-Who's disappearance on that fateful Halloween night, and the first of September 1991, where exactly has our Savior been? I was rather surprised to find that I was the first to ask such a question. Did no one else care to know where Mr. Potter was when he wasn't saving us all? Or did it not matter, so long as he continued to do so? Uncovering the truth has been a long and time consuming endeavor, but it has also been a fruitful one.

In my journey to understand who Harry Potter is, I came to realize that I, nor any of you, have ever really known him.

While writing this article, I found myself hesitating. For the first time in my career I was unsure as to how to put down the proper words in order to convey the extent of my shock. Please understand, dear readers, that what you are about to read is not a horror novel. Rather, it is the reality that our champion has kept hidden for years.

I started my research by looking into Mr. Potter's official documentation, only to find that the information regarding his supposed relatives, with whom Harry lived and still lives during summer holidays (please remember this as you continue to read) was left blank. I quickly became frustrated with the lack of information, especially when most of it should have been a matter of public record. Everywhere I checked, from the ministry to Saint Mungo's, and even Hogwarts held less on Harry's home life than that of the elves that serve the school.

After analyzing the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, I became sure that the closest relatives the boy possessed were his second-cousins, the Blacks. Today, this included only a few: Bellatrix Lestrange, Andromeda Tonks, Narcissia Malfoy and the recently deceased Sirius Black who was proven innocent of all crimes after Peter Pettigrew was confirmed alive (see article on page 5).

Yet, it was immediately obvious that Harry Potter did not stay with any of these people. His godfather Sirius Black, and known Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange had both spent years in Azkaban. Andromeda Tonks nee Black, though she had turned her back on her family, had lived an open enough life that it was easy to know that Harry Potter had never stayed in her care. Lady Narcissa Malfoy had no contact with her estranged relative, though considering the involvement of her husband with You-Know-Who (see page 7) this was most likely for the best.

Once I realized James Potter's relatives were out of the question, I looked the other way, to Lily Potter nee Evans. Harry's mother was a muggleborn witch, and with the muggle records it was a simple matter to discover that she had an elder sister by the name of Petunia Dursley nee Evans. In the primary school closest to Mrs. Dursley's address, I found that Harry Potter had been register there with Mrs. Potter's sister acting as his guardian.

It was only when I felt that I had completed my task that I realized how little I knew.

What first aroused my suspicion was the attitude of one of the muggle teachers when I made mentioned of our young hero.

''Harry Potter? Oh, I remember him! How can one forget such a strange child? He was always a trouble maker. I heard he was placed in a re-educating facility.'' the woman informed me with distaste.

Though I was aware that the secret of our magic must be kept, her response confused me. I implored her, ''Mrs Hengen, could you elaborate on what you mean by strange and trouble maker?''

''He was just odd. Strange things would happen with him around. When he was upset the weather instantly changed with his mood. Sometimes objects around my classroom just switched places in a matter of seconds. I still don't know how that little devil did it. And once he- once he just appeared on the school roof. I cannot imagine how the boy could even think of doing something so irresponsible. What's more, he refused to say how he did it. An insolent brat he was, and I was not surprised in the least when his Uncle informed us that he had been locked up for being involved with a gang. I probably shouldn't say this, but his cousin always called him freak, and although I realize that it is hardly appropriate, I can see where he was coming from.''

I left this muggle to her musing, though what she described as Harry's accidental magic made me curious. How often was the boy in an emotional state strong enough to cause such magic to manifest? Or was it showing the extent of his powers? I had gathered enough material to write my article, but this description of Harry Potter simply didn't match what we know of him.

I decided to hold onto my article. I began to search for more, but I never expected how quickly new information would start to come my way.

I met another teacher at the same primary school who offered a different perspective of Mr. Potter.

''He was a quiet and shy child. He excelled in his studies in the first semester at our school, and then his grades fell to just above passing. I never understood why. We had planned to offer to move the boy a grade or two up, but his aunt wouldn't even hear of it. After the Christmas holidays that year, Harry came back so very sullen, but there was little we could do.''

When I told her I didn't understand her next response almost caused me to lose grasp on my quill.

''I suspected for years, but there was never any proof. I even sent Harry to the school nurse (a muggle mediwitch). He looked too thin, but there was nothing to go on from. When I asked, he never answered. That little one was so good at changing the subject. I wish I had done more, but what's done is done.''

''I still don't understand why you felt the need to give Harry a medical examination?'' I pressed on, for I knew this old woman hadn't told me everything. The look in her eyes said there was much more to the story.

Even with all of my instincts as a reporter, I could not have predicted her next words.

''I suspected abuse and neglect. If you had seen the way Dudley (Harry Potter's muggle cousin of the some age) treated him, it was obvious there was something wrong going on it that house. I've seen sibling rivalry before, but this was just outward cruelty. Harry was openly bullied by Dudley and his friends. I had to separate several fights between the two, and every single time it was initiated by his cousin. Harry didn't have any friends.

"I remember the very first day, when the children were meeting each other, Dudley chased away any child that came near his cousin, and the situation only continued throughout the years. Harry never had anyone. You know he has glasses? I had to threaten his aunt with social services before she took him to get a good prescription. She always told everyone how troublesome her nephew was, but I remember that boy's expression when he sat alone. I've never seen a child looking so…lost.''

My head spun with this new information. Can you compare a shy frail boy sitting in the corner against the confident wizard who faced the Darkest Wizard of our times barely a week ago? In my search for answers, I only found more questions. Suddenly I too felt lost. I knew I was on the verge of uncovering the truth, and that I had begun to bring to light a secret that most likely would have remained hidden otherwise.

I spent two days wandering around the home of Harry's relatives, until I met the third and final person I would interview for this article: Dudley Dusley.

I must admit that I was not sure what to expect. Mr. Dursley is quite tall and of a sturdy build. I learned that he practices fist fighting until the other opponent is close to unconsciousness, or past it, as a hobby. A barbaric muggle sport called boxing. As I introduced myself, he gave me a weary glance and asked if I was ''one of those freaks''. When I told him that I wished to learn more about Harry Potter's home life, his answer was rather more direct that I expected.

''The only thing you need to know is this: if any of you freaks give a damn about him, you should make sure he never comes back here.''

When I urged him to elaborated, he told me one of the most heart breaking stories I have ever heard.

Who is Harry Potter? One may answer a hero. Another may say a boy, a teenager of no more than fifteen. I will allow his cousin's words to direct you to my conclusion.

''My parents never wanted Harry. They called him a freak and unnatural. They made him work around the house doing the cooking, cleaning, washing, the gardening - everything really, before he was five. He never owned anything. All his clothes were my old ones and they didn't fit him at all. He had no toys. He didn't even have a room and I had two. They made him feel like shit.

"My dad would always congratulate me when I beat him up. My mum hated to touch him. If he was sick, he was locked away in his 'room' until he got better. My parents never spent a penny on him. My mum would hit him with a pan when he did something strange. My dad have never hit him, at least not that I ever saw, but he would abuse him verbally. This happened every single day for years.

My parents hated him even more because he refuses to crumble. He comes back here every summer to basically become a slave, getting little food and being forced to do chores from dawn to sunset. Every single day he was mistreated. On Christmas, he would get a broken pencil while I got dozens of new toys. No one ever mentioned his birthday, and mine were always big parties with loads of presents.

His… ability is probably the only thing that saved his life. I broke his arm once, like it really looked broken. Dad threw him into his cupboard without even a pain killer. The next day it was healed, and they didn't give him food for a week because of it. Once, he just disappeared when we were chasing him around the school. It was so fast like blinking- poof- and he was gone. Maybe if my parents hadn't informed him a hundred times a day that magic didn't exist, he would have found a way to fly away or something.

You want to know the worst part? Few months ago, I was attacked by a demon-thingy (A dementor! See page 12 on Harry Potter's trial last year) from your world. It happened just after I called Potter's mum some really nasty things, but still he saved my life while risking his own. That's the type of person Harry is, it's how my parents conditioned him. Harry just saves everyone he can, probably because he knows what it's like not to be saved.''

These next words are not directed to the public, but I promised to publish them regardless.

''If you see Harry, tell him I am sorry for everything. It's completely lame, but he can't come back. My dad slapped him and threw him to the street just because a thing from your world attacked me, even though he was the one that saved me. If he values his life, he can't come back here. I don't get how no one figured it out before.

"I know he is secretive. He's a bloody good liar, and manipulative too. He had to be living here, but the letter from your freak school was addressed to a 'Cupboard Under the Stairs!" Actually, that letter was the only reason why Harry finally got an actual room. My parents were scared that others would find out how they were treating him.''

I posed one final question for Mr. Dursley. ''What do you think about his magic?''

''He's a weirdo that's for sure, but he didn't deserve what he got from us because of it. Actually, it's like my parents tried to beat the magic out of him, and I think they succeeded.'' Duddley Dusley continued, stating that, ''When I think of it, the older he got, the less stuff happened. I think he learned how to control it after a while, even if he didn't realize it. When he was little; he could just do anything, and I hated him for it. He was fast and strong despite how little he ate. His injuries, don't think the broken bone was a one-time thing, just healed. He regrew his hair once after mum cut it short. Sometimes he would even say things that would happen later on. Do all freaks do that?''

Where should I begin? Should I start with the fact that Harry Potter could apparate at the age of five, or that as a child he performed healing magic, one of the most complicated areas of magic there is, daily? Or should we focus on the image of a half-starved child from earlier being hit with a metal pan for accidental, or dare I say wandless, magic that he used to save his own life. Perhaps Mr. Potter possesses the potential for divination and metamorphmagus abilities, or it could be another manifestation of the ancient wandless magic that we know so little of today. Which is more shocking? Harry Potter- master of wandless magic, or Harry Potter- the house elf of his muggle family?

Again I ask, who is Harry Potter? To me, he is a child whom authorities of both the muggle and wizarding worlds have failed completely in protecting. He is a savior who knows nothing of being safe. I also have to ask, where was the Hogwarts staff? Why didn't the teachers notice that he never went home for Christmas? Where was Dumbledore in all of this? Where was the ministry? Why did Harry never speak up?

I leave you, dear readers, with one final question. How long will Mr. Potter be willing to fight for us when we were never willing to fight for him?

Read my next article in tomorrow's issue: Harry Potter - The boy we forgot.

For the first time in many years, Severus Snape's cool and impassive mask crumbled. It didn't help that on the next page there were two photos of Harry from his muggle primary school. His clothes were too big, his face was too gaunt, his dark hair was too messy, and those green eyes - Lily's eyes - where guarded and unreadable. What made dread install itself is his gut were the smiling happy faces of children all around, while Potter looked forgotten in the background.

The previously chaotic Great Hall was stunned into silence. No one dared to speak. Some students had already finished the article, while many more where still reading. The only difference was that some were gaping at Potter in shock, while others were gaping at the paper.

OOO

 **This story was betaed by** xXFor-The-Love-Of-FandomXx


	2. Loneliness

_Chapter two_

The Boy-Who-Lived became deathly white as his knuckles gripped the paper violently. His eyes had yet to leave the newspaper, but they were unmoving. A needle could have been dropped across the Great Hall, and it would been as loud as a bell. A tense silence had overcome the chamber, falling upon students and staff alike. It was obvious that everyone wanted to speak, but no one dared to be the first. They all had questions to ask, but which question was the most important?

The first years were looking around, lost but too intimidated by the atmosphere to ask for clarification. The other years showed their shock in different ways; emotions varied from compassion to enragement, from disbelief to horror.

Severus Snape glanced toward the side, watching his godson and the Slytherins beside him. All would expect the blond to use this newfound knowledge immediately, to try to break Potter, especially after Lucius Malfoy had been placed in Azkaban. Instead, even Draco's expression was one of deep shock. Gone was the will to mock his enemy for his plight. Instead, there reigned confusion and surprise. A calculating look settled upon the boy's face. Severus tried to distract himself from the current event by analyzing his godson's expression.

Perhaps Draco was simply too shocked, and needed time to recoup before firing off insults. Maybe it was the mention of his own mother being one of Potter's closest blood relations which, under normal circumstance, would put guardianship to either Narcissa or Andromeda, ultimately make the enemies family. Severus recalled a few years before when his godson had come, frustrated, into his study just after the welcoming feast, and had informed him that his attempts to make friends with the Boy-Who-Lived had failed.

He knew Lucius had ordered his son to become familiar with Potter in order to gain information about the brat and to gauge the extent of his powers. To say that Lucius had not been pleased when his plan failed would be modest, and so he had tasked Draco with the challenge of opposing Potter. Draco would have to be better than him in order to make a good impression for the Malfoy family when the Dark Lord returned.

Now, he was back and Lucius was gone. Yet, due to his father's failure the young Malfoy heir was in danger of being forced to take the Dark Mark to fill his father's place. Bellatrix had forced herself as a guest upon Narcissa. The woman was forced to accept in order to protect herself and her family. It was obvious to Severus that his godson was lost on what to do and though he greatly wished it otherwise, the raven haired wizard did not have an answer to solve those problems.

The Potions Master had no idea what his godson was trying so hard to understand, but he knew where his own disbelief at this news came from. It wasn't just that Potter did not look abused, but that he did not act it either.

He was not the least biased person when it came to the brat, but he had both suffered through and been witness to abuse and neglect in his years at Hogwarts as a student and as a Professor. Those children affected often ended up in Slytherin as their survival skills where heighted and their drive to be better than those that hurt them was commonplace. It occurred, of course, that students from other houses also had unhappy home live, but Potter was the image of the perfect Gryffindor. He was arrogant, fearless, thick-headed, brave, loud and confident.

So where the hell was the abused boy from the cupboard then?

'In the photo,' Severus thought, glancing again to confirm that it was real. It sure as hell didn't feel real.

Severus glanced to the staff. Horror was present on the faces of all of his fellow colleges. Minerva looked positively enraged as her gaze danced between the Headmaster and the article. Concern shinned on her face when she glanced towards the frozen boy. Dumbledore's expression was reserved, yet his emotional turmoil was so intense that the master Occlumens could sense deep guilt, self-loathing, and confusion.

Severus wondered if the boy had ever talked, or rather tried to talk to the Headmaster about this. Severus was certain that Dumbledore had known that things were not ideal for the boy, but he had not suspected this. With a sour expression, Severus realized that he too had known that things were not ideal due to the blasted Occlumency lessons, but he had never bother to go deep enough into Potter's home-life to be able to connect the dots.

He remembered the emergency Order meeting after the attack on the Potters. He had been little more than an emotionless husk at the time, but he remembered one bit of information. It had been agreed that Potter would be kept from the wizard world for his own safety. What a failure.

Though just to be sure, in memory of Lily Severus vowed to slip a bit of Veritaserum into the Headmasters drink as soon as possible. If it came to be that the man had known, then he would personally curse the one person he thought of as a friend. He sincerely hoped that the Headmaster had not forgotten that his loyalties were with Lily, and he knew that if she had been alive, people would pay dearly. There was a more pressing matter at hand, however. Currently, half of the wizarding population of Great Britain knew about this revelation; by tomorrow it would be half of the wizarding world.

''Mate?'' Ron Weasley's voice echoed through the Hall, compelling all ears to listen. It was an unconscious relief that he spoke up.

''Harry, is this true?'' Hermione Granger asked, her voice belying her anger as she tried to chock back her tears.

''No.''

The word was spoken so neutrally that Harry could just as easily have been talking about the weather. Severus raised an eyebrow, wondering what he had missed that did not fit with the picture of an arrogant Gryffindor that he had so long ago painted of the boy.

''Get up.'' Miss Granger commanded suddenly as she rose from her seat, the entire Great Hall looking on. ''Today, Ronald! Both of you!''

The ginger wizard rose gracelessly to his feet. Some unspoken communication passed between the two, and he gripped Potter's forearm before dragging him quickly towards the exit.

Those that remained were still stunned by the sudden turn of events. Granger had likely anticipated this, using it to their advantage and giving them a good head start in their little escape. Minerva rose from her seat and rushed after them, breaking whatever spell had befallen the Hall. Loud chatter quickly broke out amongst the tables. Some students decided it would be _a brilliant_ idea to follow behind the trio, and soon the halls were flooded with masses of bodies as the students rushed for the doorway, eager to witness the impending fallout.

Severus found himself rising from his seat as well, but rather than follow the others, he slipped through the staff entrance. He made his way towards the dungeons, and his personal quarters, where he could nurse his rapidly growing headache in peace. He arrived at his chambers swiftly, trying not to think that he was acting like a coward. He probably should have organized his Slytherins or assisted the Headmaster and Minerva in whatever they were doing, but he simply could not find the will to do so. The Prefects would take care of the younger years. The other student had better have enough common sense to help themselves, because the Potions Master was not feeling the least bit merciful towards the dunderheads at the moment.

The wizard sealed the door to his chambers, pausing in thought before making his way to his sleeping chambers. He carefully removed a heavily warded box from its hiding place beneath a loose floor board under his bed. With a gentle touch the wooden box opened. Inside laid a modest photo album, the cover showing signs of age and wear, but the pictures inside were in perfect condition.

He removed a picture from the box of Lily's joyful face and his own somber but content one. He examined the photos; he only possessed five of the red haired girl. One of which also showed a grumpy blonde in the background. They had both been eight at the time. Petunia, then eleven, was always trying to boss them about, growing more frustrated as time went on and the younger children became less willing to listen.

Petunia had taken greater pleasure in trying to make his life miserable than her sister's. Sure, the blonde girl would show her jealousy at not being able to join in on their playful conversations as she was not magical, but when a situation arose, such as a twisted ankle or a missing toy, Petunia was always around to help her sister.

So when the hell had that petty jealousy transformed into a hatred deep enough to justify starving a child? Even Tobias Snape hadn't gone so far in his years of abuse.

Regardless, it was obvious that the pathetic excuse for a woman had abused the Boy-Who-Lived. A part of Severus thought with more anger then reason. He had survived the abuse of his father, so what right did Potter have to crumble? Potter, in his luck, was Lily's son which made Petunia's crime unforgivable in Severus' mind. If the child had been anyone else's son, he wouldn't give a damn about what happened.

He had never shown the child much mercy, nor treated him with any degree of compassion or consideration. The child was a brat. He was insolent, he had no respect authority, and he acted as though the rules didn't apply to him. Severus Snape refused to accept that his treatment of the boy was purely done out of jealousy towards James Potter, a man whom the boy had never known but looked so much like.

Severus sighed. If Lily were alive, she would have slapped him, hard. He refused to feel guilt though. He argued with himself that he had no reason to feel guilty in the first place. The boy was not in his house, and this it was not his failure. He had no personal connection. Lupin, Black, the Weasleys and even Dumbledore were to blame here. Poppy could possibly shoulder some of the blame for not running a complete medical scan, unless Potter's accidental magic had repaired the wounds so well that there truly was no proof. Even Minerva was at fault for not noticing where the hell that letter was addressed to.

''Severus! Are you in there?'' Minerva's voice echoed behind the door.

The Potions Master quickly hid his little treasure box. Smoothing out his robes and donning his usual mask of cool detachment, he opened the door: ''To what do I owe this pleasure?'' He said sarcastically.

The old woman glared at him with heat. ''This is no time for your sarcasm. We need your help with Harry.''

Snape, hiding his emotions well, raised an eyebrow at her remark. ''And how is he my concern? You are his Head of House.'' He stressed the last part, and almost felt like apologizing when Minerva's fierce expression crumbled in guilt.

''So, you noticed it all, then?'' The witch challenged.

Severus paused, but was forced to answer honestly due to his pathetic emotions. ''No.''

''Do not lecture me, Severus Snape. This is neither the place nor the time for it. I was thinking that… with your experiences… you would be able to help Harry.''

Severus eyes narrowed at his almost-friend, ''What, precisely, are you referring to? The years I hid my home life or how I moved in with the Malfoys after my mother died only to become a Death Eater in the end. Indeed, my experience is just fantastic.'' She was about to cut in but he stopped her with a glare. ''You are under the misimpression that it matters to me what happens to the boy. What's done is done. Remove him from their care, take him to a therapist if you feel the need, but do not bother me with this issue again.''

''Harry broke into Albus' office and took the floo.'' The transfiguration professor broke in before the raven haired man had the chance to close the door. His perfectly emotionless façade must have cracked a bit, because Minerva continued with renewed confidence: ''He's missing. The aurors, Remus and half the Order have been looking for him for the past hour. Ron Weasley is nursing a broken nose after Harry punched him, while Miss Granger is claiming she has no idea where he could have gone.''

Severus blinked. 'Damned brat,' the man thought.

OOO

The thirty-six year old marched towards the hospital wing alongside the transfiguration professor. He scolded students along the way who were huddled in groups around corridors; holding the now famous article and having heated discussions. He did not give out detentions, though he did take a total of sixty points from all houses, excluding Slytherin of course. His thoughts were indeed elsewhere.

As the two Heads of House entered the infirmary they took in the crowed before them. A grim Arthur Weasley and a furious, though somewhat teary, Molly Weasley was present. As was Dumbledore and a sizable gathering of Ministry officials and aurors. Even the Minister of Magic was there attempting to argue his way out of any responsibility and putting the blame squarely upon the Hogwarts staff. The fact that the Headmaster was indeed to blame, at least to an extent, was not the question. Rather, that the ministry failed to check the security of their potential savior seemed more the issue. It was a pathetic attempt considering that after the most recent encounter with the Dark Lord, Dumbledore had gained support in the eyes of the public, even if Potter seemed furious at the Headmaster as of late.

''An educational institution is meant to protect its students in all possible areas, such as picking out cases of abuse, and they are to inform the appropriate ministry officials. What have you been doing here that such a sever case was found, not by anyone here in the five years that Mr. Potter has attended this school, but instead by a journalist who managed to collect both information and evidence in a matter of weeks?'' The imbecile finished proudly, and a petite woman next to him was hurriedly scribbling down his every word.

''Minister,'' The Headmaster started with a sight. ''If I am not mistaken, you have had contact with Harry before his third year, after a report of accidental magic was issued at his residence, and you were the one to find Harry Potter, and escort him back to his relatives. Tell me, did you notice anything that would indicate such a dire situation?''

Severus raised an eyebrow by a fraction. He understood that Albus was changing the topic, attacking the minister instead; however the allusions made the Potions Master suspicious. Potter was too important to the Headmaster; he would not have left the child to outright abuse if he had known.

Yet, when the Potions Master studied Fudge's expression, he saw it. The man had seen something worth investigating, and he had ignored it. The problem was, if Professor Dumbledore was aware of it then there was little reason to think that he had not known about all the rest. Beneath his impassive exterior, Severus was seething with rage.

''Headmaster,'' Severus spoke in a passive voice. ''A word, if you will.''

''Of course, Severus; gentleman, I will return shortly.'' The old man excused himself and before anyone could protest, the two were walking out the doors of the infirmary. From the corner of his eye, Severus noticed that Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley were being bombarded by questions. The know-it-all had apparently decided that silence was now the best solution, though how long she could manage to fight the pressure of the stares and questions was another matter entirely.

The two men slipped into an unused classroom nearby, casting the appropriate charms to insure that no one would over hear them. Severus rounded on the Headmaster. ''You knew.''

It was a statement of fact rather than a question. Dumbledore sighed, suddenly looking every bit of his 150 years, and took a seat on an empty chair. ''I suspected, my boy. Believe me however, when I tell you that I was not aware of the extent of the abuse Harry suffered. The blood wards were, and are, too important to ignore. Living with his blood relatives is the safest option for Harry.''

''You speak as if you plan to send him back.''

''Do be reasonable, Severus. We will, of course, place extra protective wards around that house to ensure that Harry will not continue to suffer. Besides, Order members and aurors will be a constant presence in the area should any event occ-"

''No.'' The word echoed throughout the room.

''Pardon?''

''You heard me. Potter will not be going back there.'' he continued, his voice as cold as steel.

The old man regarded his younger colleague with an unreadable expression. ''So you have grown to care for the boy, then?''

For the first time since the conversation began, anger leaked into Severus' voice. ''Do not mock me. You are a fool to think you can somehow convince the others to let this happen. Even if you would, which considering exactly who it is we're speaking of, is highly likely, I will not allow it.''

That damnable sparkle had returned to those deceptively kind blue eyes. ''Why?''

''You damn well know why, Albus.'' Severus sneered. ''The boy is weak, not to mention a mental wreck. You fail to see that he is an undisciplined fifteen year old child who is currently grieving, instead of the hero everyone else wishes him to be. If you put too much on him, you will crush him, and the war will most assuredly be lost.''

''I realize better than anyone that he is but a child, Severus.'' The Headmaster replied slowly. ''I tried to protect him from the knowledge of the prophesy-''

''What is so important at the end of that damned prophesy!''

''Severus-''

'Too many have died for it Albus. I can occlude my mind well enough from the Dark Lord, but do know, that you are losing my trust. Tell me the truth of the plan you seem to be forming for _years,_ or understand that you are about to lose a spy. Because, _sir,_ my loyalties first lie in protecting that damned brat.

''Severus, I realize that this revelation has upset you-''

''Albus-''

"Let me finish.'' The Headmaster spoke in a voice which left no room for argument. ''Harry has a destiny, and I am trying to do my utmost to protect as many people as possible until it is completed. I am doing the best that I can to insure that Harry not only wins when he is made to face Voldemort again, but that he will survive it.''

''By honing his survival instincts before he could walk?'' Severus exploded.

''I admit that I am not perfect, and perhaps there was another way in all of this, but it is done. No matter how regretful I am, or how loud you wish to yell at me, the past is done and the events set in motion.'' Dumbledore replied, the twinkle gone once more from his eyes. ''Sometimes sacrifices must be made. Harry has lost more and suffered more than any child ever should, and still he must bear the burden of knowing that he is our only chance in defeating Voldemort.''

"Is that child anything more to you than a weapon to be used against the Dark Lord?" The dour man demanded quietly, but his expression spoke volumes of his fury.

''Do you see more in Harry than then Lily's and James' son?''

Severus paused, contemplating the situation rather than his own feelings. He chose to remain silent.

The headmaster smiled knowingly, but there was no real surprise in his gaze. The younger man silently cursed the other for his observational skills. ''Then you are also aware that I had never discouraged your treatment of the boy. Quite the opposite, if you care to remember, and at your insistence. You made it clear to me fifteen years ago that no one was ever to know of your true motivations in protecting the boy. I did not pressure you into anything.'' Dumbledore sighed heavily before continuing. ''You are the person I trust most with Harry's life, probably more than myself at this point. If you find a suitable means of protecting him, then it will be my pleasure to remove him from his relatives care. If you don't, just as I cannot find one, then what we established fifteen years ago will stand.''

''So, what, you tell the public that Potter is being moved to a secure place, when you force him to return to that hell?" Severus questioned incredulously. Dumbledore's silence did little to ease his thoughts.

OOO

 **This story was betaed by** xXFor-The-Love-Of-FandomXx


	3. Parties

"And I like large parties. They're so intimate. At small parties there isn't any privacy."  
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, _The Great Gatsby_

 _Third Chapter_

Hours passed by as Potter made the perfect impression of possessing a capability to dematerialize. The suspicion was that the boy had hidden in the muggle world, for he had not used his wand since the morning. This was making his escape more successful with every passing minute. Severus marched down the hallways in a foul temper. Conversations with the Headmaster tended to have that effect on him. His thoughts ranged from cursing Potter to cursing Dumbledore, until he finally decided that the most sensible solution was to curse the Dursleys. As it was, he had no wish to end up in Azkaban at present.

What devil had possessed Lily to agree in naming Sirius Black the boy's godfather was beyond Severus. Black had always been an irresponsible fool. Now it seemed he had been a complete failure of a guardian if the brat had not shared this type of information with him. How in the hell did he find himself in a position where he was trying to fix the cumulative mistakes of both the Marauders and the Order was beyond him. The only reason he continued to walk the path he had so recently chosen was because he knew that, if Lily were there and knew what had happened to her son, she would have been a force to be reckoned with.

As it was, perhaps to the benefit of those responsible for the current state of things, the woman, his best friend, had been dead for fourteen years. If she somehow had been able to see all of this he knew that she would want the boy removed from her sister's care immediately. Severus held no sympathy for the brat, but even he thought that Albus' idea was deplorable.

Upon reentering the infirmary, Severus saw that the room had been emptied to some extent. It was likely that the conversations were moved elsewhere. He quickly located the person he had come to see was still present.

''Miss Granger.'' His voice was cold and his eyes narrowed as the bushy haired sixteen year old jumped up from her position on the bed next to a sleeping Weasley.

''Professor Snape.'' She replied in greeting, though obviously a lack of audience was adding to her discomfort.

 _Good_ , he thought.

''You claim to possess some modicum of intellect, yet recent discoveries seem to state otherwise.'' He sneered at her, and she looked away, obviously trying to school her expression but failing miserably. His words were getting to her. ''Look at me, and explain yourself.''

''I would rather you not condescend me, sir.'' She said back softly. The emotional confusion of talking back to a person of authority shinned through. She was not the type to disobey the rules, but there was a hardness in her gaze that the potion master had not seen before.

''Fifty points from Gryffindor for avoiding the question.'' He sneered back as he crossed his arms. He towered over the young woman from his standing position, while the girl was uncomfortably sitting down on a stool close to her friend's hospital bed. Her chin tensed, but she said nothing.

''Let us make it a hundred points then.'' He said in fake amusement. ''You do realize that Potter could very likely encounter Death Eaters during his little field trip? Does that not concern you at all? Or maybe you simply don't care? Potter is, after all-''

''Stop!'' She stood up, and the Potions Master saw tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

''I tried! I really did-'' She choked back a sob, and Severus wanted to curse himself for ever agreeing to work in a school full of hormonal teenagers. ''Harry, he covered all those things up, and when he started to tell us bits and pieces…I wanted to inform the officials; muggle or wizarding, it didn't really matter. But he said the blood wards were so very important, and that Professor Dumbledore thought he should stay there too. He reassured me that his relatives couldn't do anymore harm to him, and he never went into details anywhere near like what was written in that article. I trusted the Headmaster's judgement, and I know now that I was a fool for doing so, but who in the world could any of us trust if not Professor Dumbledore?'' She finished, a tear sliding down her cheek.

''Your own instinct, for starters.'' The Head of Slytherin sneered. He refused to feel guilty that it had been possible to notice, or that it have been the adults around the situation which had failed completely. ''The Headmaster is a good man, and that is something we all need Miss Granger, but he has the responsibility of hundreds of lives on his shoulders. You should have signaled your concerns, regardless of Potter's insistence that things had been taken care of.''

She used the sleeve of her uniform to dry away her tears before continuing, ''Harry ran away from his home at the beginning of this year, third year, and also second year. No one bothered to look into the details. He always comes back after the summer holidays looking thinner. He didn't even know his parents had been murdered! His relatives told him that his father had been a drunk and killed himself and his mother- who was always described to Harry like a prostituted- in a car crash! No one bothered to dig deeper! So do not tell me everything is my fault because I kept silent! The truth is, no one wanted to know. Everyone more or less unconsciously turned a blind eye on everything that they did not desire to understand.''

Severus started at the emotional girl, speechless. She was right, but it did not mean the he liked it. He glared at the girl as he spoke, ''You will go find Professor McGonagall, Lupin, or Molly Weasley, and you will to repeat to them everything you just said to me. You will elaborate further on every detail. If you fail to do this, I can assure you that you will not like the consequences.'' He paused to let his threat sink in. ''However, you are first going to tell me if you have the slightest suspicion of where Potter could be.''

She shook her head. ''I wish I knew. I've tried to contact him, but he won't answer.''

''How?'' Severus demanded in confusion.

''The DA we conducted this year, we have these coins which allow the leader to send a small message to anyone else carrying one. We used them to arrange our meetings, and it can work as a messaging device well enough, but I can't trace a signal back to Harry's.''

''You invented this?''

She nodded her head. The older wizard was slightly impressed, but he would never admit it. ''Give me the coin.''

The bushy haired girl looked uncertain, ''Whatever you write the other DA members will be able to see it.''

''That is none of my concern.''

Miss Granger watched her Professor turn the coin around in his hand before putting it in his pocket. The girl didn't even protest. Severus felt rather surprised at how easy it went. ''Tell me, Miss Granger, how come you had told me all this but felt then need to foolishly waste everyone's time when others have likely already asked you similar questions.''

''Harry doesn't trust you, but when I thought about how you always end up protecting Harry, regardless of your mistreatment of him in class, I guess I got the impression that you cared more about his life than you would ever let on. Certainly more than most of the people who were here before.'' She finished in a rush.

Silently in his head, Severus noted that if the girl had just a bit more confidence in herself and her instincts, rather than blindly trusting people in positions of authority, she would have the potential to be a truly valuable witch in this war. The problem was, she was too young. She had the brains, but not the life experience to use her intellect wisely, which always seemed to put the Dark Lord at a higher advantage. Potter was possibly powerful, Granger had the intellect, and Severus had no idea what purpose Weasley served, buy the trio had the potential to be a very real threat. Still, they were children regardless of all they had seen, and that would always put them at a disadvantage against their enemies.

OOO

Students may have thought they had seen their Potions professor in a foul mood, but that paled in comparison to his current state. As Severus marched to the nearest floo, he was contemplating with glee what he would do to a certain woman from his past, wondering just how much he could get away with.

The raven haired man walked slowly along the calm streets of Privet Drive. His attire had been changed to a classic white shirt, grey pants and a dark brown muggle coat and his hair was pulled back into a neat queue. His wand was secured in his pocket, ready to be used, though the problematic blood wards should have been extending their protection, in some degree, to the area. He had wondered if the dark mark on his arm would prevent him from entering the house. A part of him desired that, for he could then walk away from this issue with a clean conscious. Let Albus be damned for putting him in a position where he felt responsible for making sure the boy was secure for the summer to come.

He wondered grimly on the options at hand. He needed to assess the situation personally before making any type of decision. It had been that nosey fool of a woman, Skeeter, who wrote the article that caused such thoughts to emerge in his mind. There must have been aggregations on her part. Potter was fifteen, not a helpless toddler, and Severus wondered if leaving him at this house with enough charms would work. On the other hand, the Potion Master considered that the brat had just suffered a great loss, a loss for which he thought himself responsible according to Lupin and Molly Weasley. That certainly didn't make the situation any easier.

With complete loathing at even having to summon his deeply buried memories, Severus remembered how he had broken after his mother's death. It had been an accident, but he had wondered for many years that if he had been home, could he have stopped it occurring? This, combined with loosing Lily's friendship, had been the final straw in submitting to the pureblooded ideals for glory, power and respect. He had joined the Death Eaters which had been one of the greatest mistakes of his life. After Lily and Potter were murdered, he had needed months to come back to himself and even now he wasn't entirely willing to deny some portion of guilt.

It was a quiet afternoon, almost evening. Potter's disappearance was becoming even so more worrisome to the Order, but Severus knew that if the Death Eater's caught the child, the fifteen year old would be brought to Dark Lord to kill personally. Of course, before that, the Dark Lord would summon as many of his followers as possible before exhibiting his revenge. It was a small consolation to anyone, but at least they knew the worst hadn't happened. Yet.

He knocked on the door of 4 Privet Drive. He heard some commotion in the house, and within a minute, a tall, large boy opened the door. His silhouette was one of a boxer, for there was too much fat for any other sport, yet the blond teen was not to be considered obese, but rather of stout built. Severus kept his passive expression without a fault. His mind travelled to the article, and had no trouble believing that the individual in front of him was physically capable of breaking bones.

''Good evening, Mr. Dursley. I am an old friend of your mother's. Is she home by any chance?'' The potion professor asked calmly.

''Ehh…yeah?'' The teenager replied idiotically eyeing the man up and down. The boy must have assumed that he posed no threat, or maybe the boy was simply a moron, and let the wizard in. Dudley Dursley yelled towards the living room that there was a guest in the house.

Severus took in the foyer. The house seemed well kept, richly decorated and organized, although the decoration seemed tasteless and atrocious to his own eye. All in all, it was the image of a typical middle class muggle home of a typical muggle family. Knowing Petunia, that was exactly what she wanted. Severus took a step forward, and his eyes caught sight of the cupboard under the stairs with an air opening installed and a lock which only worked from outside. He tried to suppress his fury, however as he guessed at how much space was inside, he realized that most house elves had larger sleeping chambers.

A forty year old woman rushed into the hall. Time had not been kind to her, as her face was plain, wrinkled and used up. Her hair had darkened with time, which her one centimeter offshoots proved, while her hair was coloured an unnatural yellow. Maybe it was the latest muggle fashion.

''Tunie, it's been ages.'' He said in a form of greeting.

Petunia looked at him in a mixture of shock and confusion. Her sharp gaze hardened as soon as she recognized him. Her long nose rose up as she made a disgusted face upon realizing who was in her house.

''Severus.'' She spat, though some venom seemed to be held back as her son was still in the room, looking rather strangely upon the situation. There was a level of anxiousness in his eyes, which suggested that Dudley Dursley had some brain cells, and realized his little interview with Skeeter had incurred consequences.

''What are you doing in my house?'' She continued with a glare. Suddenly, as if the sentenced had reminded her of where she was, the older woman turned to her son, her voice becoming sweeter and higher: ''Dudley, please go play on your computer upstairs.''

''Mum.'' The boy protested rather embarrassed, and it was not so surprising considering the woman was addressing her son as if he was six and not sixteen.

''That would be for the best.'' The potions master insisted. The teen had shown some remorse for his actions, and for that he decided to spare the child from the little show he had prepared.

As soon as the boy disappeared up the stairs, Severus counted slowly to ten while the older woman and he glared silently at one another. He had forgotten where he had learned and then practiced this little skill as a child. The potions master noted the irony of the situation with some level of amusement. Potter had some exceedingly rotten luck.

Without further ado, Severus took three steps to reach the cupboard and yanked the door open. Inside were cleaning supplies and an old mattress. Some may think innocently of the bed, broken toys and a small childish drawing tacked messily to the wall, but he knew better.

His voice was like steel as he turned toward the woman with loathing in his black eyes. ''Tell me Petunia, what sort of monster does one need to be to reach this kind of cruelty?''

''Get out freak.'' She snapped back, meeting his gaze without a second thought. Her hands were crossed, while he looked calculatingly at her.

''Manners, Tunie.'' He chided coldly. ''You should get used to wizarding folk being around. In the upcoming days you can expect many angry members of the magical community to demand punishment for the abuse and neglect you have bestowed on their savior." He knew from Albus that she was not oblivious to who her nephew was. If she ever consider the child family, that is.

Her eyes narrowed in lack of understanding and slight panic. ''What the hell are you talking about?''

''One of our journalist has found proof of what has been going on in this house, and published it this morning for the world to see.'' He said in a perfectly neutral voice, greatly enjoying her reaction as she grasped and her eyes widened.

''You are lying!'' She shrieked, almost making him wince at the horrible noise.

''I thought of you as slightly more intelligent. Honestly, if I have not had the displeasure of knowing you, I would not believe you could be related to Lily-''

''Shut up! What proof are you babbling about Snape?'' demanded the blonde.

''You will get the article soon. In the meantime, I have a couple of questions to ask.'' The potions master finished in a calm voice, yet his face gave away his dour mood.

The woman took a few steps forward fearlessly, coming to stand almost in his face as she spat, ''So you remembered, after fourteen years, that your dear best friend had been killed and had a brat that I was damned with. Not once have you checked. Not a single time had another freak been here with any kind of interest into Potter's well-being. I am sure Lily would be jumping with joy at how much you care about her son.''

Severus swallowed as his grip on his wand tightened dangerously. The woman seemed amused by mocking him. ''Do you forget that he is your nephew, or are you really that jealous of your sister?''

''She was a freak, and I still did my duty by talking the brat in despite how much I hate your unnaturalness. You should be thanking me for agreeing to that Blood Protection.'' She claimed with her chin raised up high.

''You are delusional. The only thing I should do is make sure you suffer in return as Lily is not here to do so herself.'' His eyes sparked with fury, and for the first time, she looked uncertainly toward his wand hand.

Severus had no idea where her confidence came from, but she smirked at him cruelly as she continued. ''Poor Sev, you're threats are still as empty as before. When we were children you couldn't use magic, and now I have the Blood Protection, especially from workers of your madman. You know, Lily told me about your sad, sad story of choosing the dark side. She cried for you, poor and stupid slut that she was-''

''Do not dare insult her or you will taste how good I became at torturing when I went to the dark side.'' He threatened, advancing toward her and forcing her to take a step backwards.

Her confidence melted to some extent, but stubbornness still shined through. ''If you want the brat, then be my guest and take him. Otherwise get your freakish arse out of my house!'' She raised her voice at him for the second time during the conversation.

The teenager upstairs must have gotten worried by the raised voices as Severus could hear him approaching. What made the potions master stop in his tracks, with a sense of cold dread in his stomach, was the fact that Petunia's imbecile of a son seemed incapable of closing the front door correctly. In the reflection of a picture frame located by the stairs, Severus could see Harry bloody Potter's shocked expression. Almost immediately, Severus decided that he was the one with outstandingly atrocious luck here.

OOO

Potter was stunned into silence, even after Petunia rushed to the door when she noticed a change in his expression. She yanked the door opened and screeched at the fifteen year old to get inside the house. Potter was still too shocked at what he heard from the Potions professor to pay attention to her, and in a rough movement, she grabbed the boy by the white shirt of his Hogwart's uniform and violently pulled him inside. Severus was disgusted as she went outside to check to see if any of the neighbors had seen the disgrace.

Potter just stared at him with wide green eyes. 'Innocent eyes.' Severus tried to forget that detail with all his will.

The elder wizard was not doing much better. His lips were pressed in a thin line, while his fist clenched painfully. Anger at being eavesdrop on rose high, yet he knew he had been completely careless in this situation. Granted, anyone who wished Potter harm- and was not a part of this sick family- could not even dream of getting close to the building. Still, here he was with a very unpleasant situation to deal with.

Severus glared as he demanded in an icy tone, "Who the hell do you think you are, Potter? Do you have any idea what havoc your little escape has caused? Aurors, the Order, and other innocent people are currently risking their lives to find you, while you arrogantly drown in self-pity. You aren't even pathetic, you're less.'' He stressed at the end with as much cruelty as he could muster.

The green eyes closed, for which the potions master was extremely grateful. He considered Obliviating the brat for a moment, but he argued that he first had to get him out of a house where magical activity was carefully observed.

What made Severus hold back his next words was the utter hopelessness in Potter's posture. Did the brat even dare to think that something would change due to this unwanted discovery? An unpleasant feeling settled in Severus' gut.

James Potter made sure he hated everything to do with the man. Everything but Lily. He could never hate Lily. If the boy were anyone else, the potions master knew he would not be there arguing with Potter's aunt in the first place. If the matter was to do with any other child, from any house, the most Severus would have done would be escort that child to Poppy.

So where the hell was the guilt coming from? If Lily had chosen her friends more carefully, if Lily's friends had been the Weasley's, Andromeda Tonks… anyone but him, the Longbottom's and the Marauders who were incapable of even taking care of themselves, Lily's child would have been safe. He wouldn't have been left at 4 Privet Drive for ten years. Someone would have noticed, and Severus would never have felt responsible for the unpleasant way Potter's life had been turned unnecessarily, without even adding the Dark Lord to all this mess.

The most powerful dark wizard of the contemporary world had named a child his arch enemy. That child didn't need to be an unhappy and abused boy to top that off, for Merlin's sake! Suddenly, Severus took a new light toward Rita Skeeter's words, something which he refused to acknowledge up until then.

What if Potter desired to turn towards the Dark Arts? Just like he had, just like the Dark Lord had? Then they all, magic or not, would be faced with a threat so much worse. The truly vile part to this whole story was how close all of them were to breaking the boy. Potter had used a Cruciatus last week out of anger and grief. This did not bode well.

''Mum?'' The young muggle questioned with audible uncertainty. He walked quickly down the stairs, and noticed his cousin in the room. His eyes widened, and his posture shifted back and forth as if he hadn't decided if he should approach the raven haired boy or not. ''Harry? You look terrible.''

''Why the hell did you do it?'' Potter snapped back with venom Severus had not realized the child possessed. He turned around from his Professor, focusing like a predator upon his next prey: ''Why?''

Dudley Dursley blanched. He must have figured out what the conversation was about. It was obvious that the teen was a coward.

''Leave my Dudkinns alone, freak!'' Petunia hissed at him.

Potter turned his heated gaze on his aunt, his eyes flashing with a hundred emotions until they settled on anger. ''He told everything! About the cupboard! The food! School! Thanks to your dear Dudkinns, you could go to pri-''

A loud slap echoed throughout the house as Potter's head snapped forcefully to the side. Petunia's hand was shaking, as was her entire frame. ''Do not lie to me, boy.'' She uttered with loathing.

Severus Snape was startled at first, but the truth of what he had witnessed was in front of his eyes in the form of Potter's reddened cheek. He did not hesitate this time as he forced Petunia to back away from the fifteen year old. Rather than letting her go, he took out his wand and pointed it in front of the woman's nose. For the first time, the reality of the situation was drawing on Petunia and she eyed the stick fearfully.

''Dare to raise your hand on him again, and I swear on Lily's gave, you will beg to die by the time I am done with you.'' His voice was low and dangerous.

Severus straightened his posture, while he saw Potter watching him with a wide gaze while a hand was covering his cheek. He felt embarrassment and an ocean of anger from the teen.

''Potter. Out. You already caused me to waste enough of my time as it is.'' The raven haired man decided. With his wand out, still in his muggle attire, the man grabbed the door handle and threw it open, passing the brat on his way. Emerald eyes glared at him with fire, while he angrily raised his head.

''It's a good thing sir, I can always count on your capacity to put all the blame of the world on a Potter. Whatever it would be, it's always Potter. Potter caused this, Potter the insolent, Potter the arrogant. Isn't it great to be able to constantly take revenge for the past?''

The fifteen year old paused to stand in a more comfortable position. His eyes were guarded as he continued, ''Don't you ever get tired of hating my father? You know, the man that I don't even remember?"

"You know what-'' The emerald eyed boy said with a new edge to his voice as he looked between the two adults present with humorless laughter. ''The two of you should open a Potter-Hating fan club. You would be just perfect. One blames my mother for all the wrongs of her life, the other blames my father.''

OOO

 **This story was betaed by** xXFor-The-Love-Of-FandomXx


	4. Angry people are not always wise

"Angry people are not always wise."  
― Jane Austen, _Pride and Prejudice_

 _Chapter Four_

''Enough.'' Severus hissed, enraged by the boys arrogance.

''No,'' Potter said, his voice cracking slightly. ''This isn't Hogwarts. Why did you come here? What's the point? Actually- I don't want to know. Just don't pretend to give a damn when we both know you don't. I neither want nor need anyone else pretending as if I matter. As you can see, I have plenty of that already.'' He stressed at the end, while the Potions Master regarded the emotional teenager silently.

Severus spoke slowly, with granite like firmness: ''I am still your Professor, and you will return to Hogwarts with me, even if I have to drag you along by your ear.''

''You're very welcome to try.'' There was a challenging glint in his eyes. "Sir."

Snape glared at the child with fire. The cocky arrogance displayed was unlike the boy's usual behavior. There was a wild look in his eyes, likely due to having his darkest secret aired.

Petunia finally came back to the conversation. ''You are not going to stay here! I only agreed to tolerate you for two months a year.''

Potter rolled his eyes. ''I would rather sleep under a bridge than have to suffer your 'toleration'." He replied in a low voice with such conviction that it was clear that the boy had never intended to spend a night here. What brought the teenager to Privet Drive was a mystery. Was it only to yell at his relatives? Regardless, the Potions professor had more immediate concerns to address than the illogical actions of a hot-tempered teen.

The blonde gave a dismissing nod. ''Get out then, both of you. Vernon is going to be home any minute.''

Snape was curious. For all the bad blood that sparked between aunt and nephew, there was some silent communication that passed between them. A look that communicated a deeper dialogue then the words heard. Potter blanched slightly, which only added to the unhealthy colour of his skin. Severus expected the brat hadn't eaten since breakfast, not that he had really been eating much then. With one betrayed look toward the other teenager who was frozen on the stairs, Potter marched past the wizard, only to have Severus grab him by the shoulder as he went. The older man had suffered one too many headaches throughout the day to let the boy do as he pleased, especially considering he had been the main cause of them.

The emerald eyed boy turned around in one quick move, and used the support of the wall next to him to destabilize his professor's footing. Snape caught his balance before he ended up on the floor. The man took out his wand and muttered a stunning spell. He would not have Potter running off again. The wave of the spell travelled through the air. To both the wizards' astonishment, the curse changed trajectory, moving off to the side just before striking its intended target.

Potter seemed even more surprised than Severus felt. He watched his own hands, not with wonder that one would expect, but fear. Severus was a too practiced a dualist not to use his opponents lack of concentration to his own advantage. With one quick movement, he fired another stunning spell. Potter did not deflect this one. Rather, he managed to duck out of the way in time for the curse to miss him again.

Severus narrowed his eyes. Considering the habitat the boy was raised in, it seemed logical that his reflexes to avoid an attack were honed. A direct encounter was something the child seemed capable of confronting. Moreover, during their little duel Snape noticed that the anger in Potter's gaze vanished. In its place was an intense concentration, which meant the brat was acting more on autopilot than anything else.

Severus swallowed, knowing he had to change tactics. He didn't wish to harm the child, and he also had to consider the small space the two wizards were in. If either started to fire more dangerous curses, they could be fatally deflected on to the two poor excuses for muggles in the room, or worse, onto the street.

''Do continue, Mr. Potter. You are simply paving the road to your expulsion from Hogwarts with every passing moment.'' He sneered at the child, not letting the hands of his opponent out of sight. Potter had not yet taken out his own wand.

The green eyes widened at the older man, as the fifteen year old exclaimed, ''You are not my Head of House-''

With a discreet jinx, Snape used a previously transfigured rope to bind around the boy's hands. Potter took a step back, hitting his head against one pinkish wall as he tried to escape the ropes. His attempt was fruitless as his hands were bound firmly, though not enough to cause true discomfort.

''Take them off!'' The emerald eyed teenager spoke with a hint of panic.

Snape took two long steps before putting both of his hands onto the boy's shoulders. ''Calm down, Potter.''

''Then take them off.'' The 'chosen one' exclaimed again, not meeting his professor's gaze as he struggled with the magical handcuffs. It was, to an extent, irrational of the teenager to abandon all chance of fight due to the binding. If Potter truly could control magic easily without a wand, then this predicament should not have caused such a strong reaction. Severus concluded that the brat was attempting to provoke a burst of accidental magic in order to release himself from his position. He sighed. Maybe Potter didn't have wandless magic at all, like the Dark Lord did, but rather the circumstances had forced his accidental magic to be provoked far too often. As gently as he could manage to act around the fifteen year old, Severus took a hold of Potter's tied hands. He was oblivious to a completely unmoved Petunia who was sneering throughout Potter's entire outburst. Nor was he aware that Dudley Dursley had approached his cousin by a few steps with an uncertain expression, stopped only by his mother's protest.

''Accio Harry Potter's wand,'' The potions master muttered, and a moment later the wand was resting in his outstretched hand. Potter glared at the fact he was wandless, but he kept silent. Thank Merlin. When Severus studied his expression, he saw the apprehensiveness in the fifteen year olds green gaze.

''Let go.'' The brat tried once again, but even his voice indicated that he knew better then expect a positive response.

''When you are calmer,'' Snape replied after a moment of consideration. The man turned back toward his detested childhood acquaintance. Her expression was guarded, but she seemed happy that Potter had reacted violently to his touch earlier. The woman was a fool if she thought that would help her case. If she had not abused the child Potter most likely would have neither reacted this way, nor would any of them have been in this unpleasant situation.

Severus took out his wand and whispered one soft spell before speaking with a voice of steel, ''Do not bother trying to hide the evidence from that cupboard, Tunie. I've made certain it's not going anywhere.''

''You bastard!'' The women accused. ''Now you wish to play hero? Well, let's be clear. This is my house, my rules. If you don't like them, the door is that way. Besides, I never let the brat get too hurt, unlike your drunk of a father, right? Do you still have the scars from the belt-''

The potions master raised his wand as he considered letting loose one of his darker fantasies, however the muggle sixteen year old jumped from the stairs toward his mother. Maybe the teen was not a complete coward. What was far more surprising was that another attack came from behind. Potter forcefully knocked him from the side, destabilizing his footing. When the Potions Master met the emerald eyes, they were unreadable.

''She's not worth it.'' The fifteen year old muttered quietly. Petunia did not look surprised that Potter had protected her.

''Harry may be you really should leave, especially if dad's coming soon.''

''And I have you to thank for that, Dudley,'' Despite the words, there was sarcasm in Potter's voice. ''The monster who killed my parents is alive, and he will gladly use the secrets you sold as a means to torment me. Aside from that, people will treat me like a bomb about to explode. Not to mention that all the dark wizards know now where the bloody hell I go every summer. So now, not only is my life on the line, but yours is too, and I need to find a way to fix it all. Really, Big D, thanks so much.''

The sixteen year old gulped at the news, looking with wide eyes at his cousin. Potter seemed almost amused at making the other boy look like a deer caught in the headlights.

''Don't try to scare my Dudley with your horrible lies, boy! The Blood Protection-''

Severus broke in with a bored tone. ''Since when are you an expert on magic, Petunia? The blood wards give you a level of protection, which ends when Potter's magic matures fully at seventeen. Then, your heads will be served on a silver plate to both Death Eaters, who will torture the breath out of you, and to Potter's loyal fans.'' The potions master enjoyed watching the colour drain from the muggle's faces. ''Thanks to your son, Potter may be removed from this household much sooner than that, though. When that happens, the Blood Wards will fall too, speeding up this scenario considerably.''

Severus did not look back as he turned toward the doorway and forced Potter to join him. Dudley Dursley stared in shock from his mother to the two wizards. He grabbed Potter by his shoulder, yet he made sure to not be too rough. Potter walked silently at first, obviously wishing to get away from Privet Drive. This was understandable. However, when the street faded away, the brat yanked his arm away from his professor, glaring at the man with loathing.

''Potter, it is in your best interest to stop acting like a five year old.'' The adult reprimanded, yet waited unmoving.

The emerald eyed teen raised his chin high with suspicious eyes, his hands still bound, ''Where are we going?"

''To get something to eat.''

The fifteen year old blinked in surprise, ''And Hogwarts?''

''It is on the agenda.'' The potion master replied tonelessly, yet a small movement of his wand caused the binds on the boy's hands to loosen and then disappear.

Potter massaged his wrists, as if he had been in discomfort before. He approached the potions master uncertainly, ''Shouldn't you inform the Order that you found me?''

''I hardly care if they worry, Potter.'' And they truly did deserve to worry.

''But you said that everyone was looking for me; what if they encounter Death Eaters?'' The fifteen year old questioned with more of his usual annoyingly lively voice.

''You should have considered that before running off.''

''I would have come back today.''

Severus gave him a long look full of skepticism: ''Your words mean little.''

''Can't you send them a patronous?'' The child asked again, a hint of guilt echoed in his voice. ''I don't want anyone to get hurt, sir.''

The Potions Master exhaled, while he started to walk again and was glad to see the boy follow. What brought about this change of mood was a mystery. Was the brat truly so protective?

''Potter, I will say this once and do not dare repeat it to anyone. Aurors are not complete morons, nor are they untrained. The same applies to the Order members who are currently looking for you. They are capable of defending themselves, and every one of them is aware of the risk. They are willing wizards and witches, and you have to learn to respect their choices.''

Severus expected the brat to further question why he refused to send forward the information, but his next question was much simpler.

''Are you going to give me back my wand?''

"No."

They arrived at a modest restaurant, with pale tables, pale chairs, and pale walls. Even the people working had a deathly paleness about them. The only source of life in the old restaurant was the bar made of dark wood with golden decorations. It stood out from the rest of the image. The bar focused the eye, imprisoning the mind into a single thought. Potter followed his Professor, and a minute later the two sat in silence at one of the empty tables in the far corner of the room. They watched each other calculatingly, yet both Occlumens kept their observations and strategies well hidden beneath their masks.

''I will not repeat what I heard and saw if you swear to do the same.'' The fifteen year old negotiated.

Severus an eyebrow at that, completely unmoved, ''Is this your attempt at blackmai?''

The young eyes narrowed, ''It's a straightforward deal. Though in all honesty, I cannot understand how my mother could ever be friends with a Death Eater, or more precisely, you.''

''Watch your tongue, Mr. Potter.'' The potions professor warned with a silky voice, his hands clenched into fists. It didn't help that it was Lily's eyes that were looking at him with cold disgust. He needed to rein in his temper before he did something he would regret.

He had brought the brat here to give himself time to reflect upon what he had witnessed. Moreover, Severus realized that a part of his mind had seriously considered leaving Potter with the Dursley under the Order's supervision. This was out of question now, after he witnessed the ease with which Petunia had restored to physical and verbal violence against her nephew.

The fifteen year old did not back down, and in the half crowded restaurant, he spoke in a tone that Severus wished he could ignore. ''What the Marauders did to you was wrong, and I learned that on my own skin.''

''Potter-''

''And,'' The fifteen year old broke in, forcing his teacher to let him finish. ''If the tables were reversed, if it was your unhappy home life that had been in the headlines of the newspapers, what would you give to keep it a secret?'' The boy finished softly, with a pleading expression that disgusted Severus. ''I am not looking for your sympathy. I am not going to use my mother's memory to make a point. All I want is for you to know that I am ready to give a lot to keep this matter a secret.''

The Potion Master regarded his student silently. He heard the threat between the lines, but the spy also knew that he didn't know what said threat was and that was a disadvantage for him. The brat could be bargaining about air here, but there was hardness in the young emerald eyes that suggested his intent was anything but childish.

''Humans share the unacknowledged trend of idolizing their own misfortunes above those of anyone else without any logical perspective, don't they, Mr. Potter?'' The child glared at him, much to his amusement. Severus passed the boy the menu, ''My treat.''

Potter didn't take the menu. Instead he seemed deep in thought, most likely trying to figure out a threat powerful enough to use against his hated professor. Suddenly, Severus realized an unlikely advantage he had over the boy. The fifteen year old had demonstrated on many occasions an aversion towards bulling. If this aversion came from his personal experience, then perhaps the boy was weakened by limiting himself from stepping into the role of an aggressor.

Severus continued with a new found calmness, ''If you wish not to share a meal with me, then I will be more then content to take you back to Hogwarts right now.''

The brat responded by opening the menu with a frustrated expression. He flickered through the pages pointlessly, obviously not reading the words. The Gryffindor did not lift his gaze when he mastered the courage to speak, ''So you were my father's school enemy and my mum's best friend. How does that work?''

''Your lack of intellect is not my concern.'' He replied sternly, with a clear warning as this was not a topic he wished to discuss, especially with the reincarnation of James Potter that sat before him. Besides, he still planned to Obliviate the boy when they left the restaurant.

''Right, I forgot that you're the bitter ex-Death Eater turned Potions professor that's incapable of letting go of the past.'' Severus decided to ignore him, and enjoyed the child's frustration as one more of his venues failed. The thirty six year old suspected he had far better cheek ready, yet his hesitation to use it was his own demise. ''And what's with the restaurant deal? People can overhear us. What if there are Death Eaters here?''

''Once again, Mr. Potter, your intellect proves to be atrocious.'' The Potions Master stated unkindly. ''I am a spy, and very aware of the areas which both sides have already checked, think most probable to check, and are currently at to look for you. Besides, a waitress hasn't yet acknowledged our presence, nor have the other costumers. Your inability to detect a few simple wards proves that you pay little attention in classes other than my own.'' He said this pointedly; the brat did not take the critique humbly and sat straighter with a cross expression.

''I pay attention in your class. Sadly, a certain teacher never stops trying to reduce me to dirt under his feet long enough for me to prove it.''

''Excuses. Have you chosen your meal?'' Severus replied patronizingly.

''I'll take anything.'' The fifteen year old replied carelessly, strong negativity echoing through his voice. Severus muttered a spell to test Potter's metal shields. He felt them instantly, and so did the boy, for he jumped as if something had burned him, though his defenses did not crumble to Severus' unadmitted approval.

''You can't do that!''

''Stay seated.'' The Potions Master instructed firmly.

''You just-''

''Stopped my intrusion. Your shields are not as pathetic as I thought.'' Severus did not wish to dwell on the fact that he had given an indirect compliment to the boy, but he was not done with him yet. Besides, the unhealthy pale skin and dark circles under the boys eyes shouted that the fifteen year old needed a proper meal. ''Now, you will either eat chitterlings or reconsider your choice of me choosing your meal.''

''I'll take pizza.''

Severus wanted to roll his eyes at the childish behavior, but he wished not to waste any more energy on the teenager. The fact that he was cooperating to some extent suggested the he was indeed starving. The Potions Master carefully manipulated his series of charms for the waitress to take the order. She returned with their drinks, and left to see to her other clients. Potter looked blindly ahead. Severus decided now was as good a time as any for the conversation he needed to have with the child. ''How often did your relatives abuse you?''

''Read the article. Dudley got it rather right.''

His fist clenched at the arrogant act, but he continued calmly. He had faced abused students at Hogwarts before, yet this brat still managed to ignite his ire. ''Watch your tone. How many meals a day did you have?''

''Depends,'' The Potions Master raised an eyebrow at that, waiting. Potter finally seemed to grow uncomfortable under his gaze, for he leaned away in the chair and spoke, ''If your sick fantasies are really so curious, my aunt always woke me up before Vernon or Dudley and let me eat breakfast. She would never stand for someone accusing that she mistreated her son or me, so on school days I got a pack lunch. That's it.''

Silently, Severus was cataloguing every single word and movement of the child as he said this. He needed to know more. In retrospect, he had more than enough to make his point with the Headmaster and the Order of how serious Potter's abuse was. Yet now, all he could feel was unquestionable guilt. ''And dinner?''

''My uncle's favorite punishment was to deny me food.'' Potter appeared embarrassed when the words were out, and continued quickly, ''It wasn't so bad though, I did most of the cooking since I was five, so I usually managed to steal food here and there. And Aunt Petunia, for all of her shrieks and complains, made sure I had the basics and that I stayed alive.''

''If you are thinking you can convince me that you have not been subjected to abuse after what I saw then you're either truly stupid or delirious.'' The Potions Master snapped back, angered by the boy's attitude. He filled both of their glasses with water to occupy his hands. ''Nothing about this situation is fine, and neither are you.''

The emerald gaze flashed: ''Some people don't have the luxury of sitting down and pondering on all the wrongs of their life, looking for people to blame or places to hide. Some people, Professor, have to fight every single day just to survive. And maybe after, they'll have time to be bitter or depressed, when they find the time to think about how unfair life is. But what is the point in that?''

OOO

The little elf looked curiously at Harry Potter and the tall Potions professor who sat with him. Dobby was happy his Harry Potter was going to have a meal, for Dobby worried about Harry Potter's health. He wanted Harry Potter to be happy! The little elf looked down at his thin hands, which held the letter Harry Potter had requested earlier. Dobby wondered if he should try to get Harry Potter's attention now, or wait until Professor Snape had made sure the fifteen year old had eaten. Dobby remembered that he had offered earlier in the day to bring some biscuits to raise his poor Harry Potter's spirit. The house elf stayed hidden in the shadow as his thoughts travelled to the events that had taken place a few hours before.

Dobby watched his Harry Potter with wide, unsure eyes. His pointy ears hung down, while he stayed to the shadows. The great wizard was not a happy wizard. Dobby did not like the way his master held his wand. Neither did the house elf like the pleading edge in his master's voice when Harry Potter offered Rita Skeeter a large amount of money for her to say publicly that an article had been based on false information. Dobby shuddered when Harry Potter screamed the name of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. His good and young Master's voice took a hard edge. The amount of money proposed just grew and grew. Dobby could not believe how much Master was willing to offer for her silence, but the woman simply responded by laughing.

The elf did not like that. She was a mean woman. A very mean witch. Her voice grew patronizing, her words mocking. She told him of plots and dreams of becoming famous thanks to Dobby's master. She said that she was not going to abandon that for his foolish complaints. She told master to be thankful and to go cry to someone else unless he wanted everyone to know of the deal Harry Potter offered. She spoke of the profit his master's tragedies would bring both of them in the public eye. She named the innocent prisoner of Azkaban in her speech.

Dobby was about to hex her hair off for insulting his Harry Potter, but his master asked him to close the door. With a flick of his hand Dobby did, added silencing charms as asked. The elf did not understand why Harry Potter had asked him to do this, but Harry Potter was the best wizard ever, and he was always right. Dobby waited near the door as his master made one more attempt to convince Rita Skeeter to make a deal with him.

''Imperio.''

The words had been said, and Dobby watched his master in concern as he told him to go to Hogwarts, and most precisely Professor McGonagall's office, to find the copy of his first Hogwarts letter. Dobby asked if his Harry Potter wanted tea and biscuits to raise his spirits. Dobby did not like his master being sad. Harry Potter gave him a weak smile, and asked him kindly if he could keep what he had seen a secret. Very happy that he could do something for his Harry Potter, Dobby promised to do this with enthusiasm.

OOO

 **This story was betaed by** xXFor-The-Love-Of-FandomXx


	5. Appear weak

"If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle."  
― Sun Tzu, _The Art of War_

Chapter Five

Severus remained silent after the fifteen year olds tirade. For all his loathing toward James Potter and everything to do with the man, he now hated himself for almost feeling like it had been a young Lily who just bluntly stated his wrong doings. Between the mother and the son there were the eyes, and other minor physical characteristics. Yet, as he shared the meal with Potter's son, just after seeing Petunia and having her bring forward all of his unwanted childhood memories, the potions master could not negate the resemblance in personality between the son and the mother. The protectiveness, the temper, and even the irrationally selfless tendencies, mixed together with kindness. Both of the teenager's parent's memories lived through their son, and yet, in front of him sat a boy who was unlike Lily or James.

James Potter had been a spoiled, pure-blooded brat who looked down on his inferiors. Truthfully, Potter had no tendencies to categorize people by their blood; however he did judge those around him carelessly. He knew his power and demonstrated it. He knew not fear until the Dark Lord's influence became a full scale war in their seventh year. Maybe that had changed him to an extent, but he was a sinner just the same. In the face of the Dark Lord, he had not even survived a minute; he couldn't even protect his own family, while Lily managed to do just that. She saved the boy that now sat in front of him, and that boy had, so far, saved countless others. James Potter would have never done that. He had not been the type of man to make such sacrifices. He did die for his wife and son, yet the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Cause-Endless-Drama had done so much more in far less time, with less to his use.

The hardest part for Severus wasn't even to admit his wrong doings, but knowing that apologizing was almost pointless. Just as Minerva had said that morning, the fifteen year old needed support and protection. He needed someone to take an active stance in his defense. Only a fool would think that safety existed with the Dark Lord alive, yet that did not mean the emerald eyed wizard was unworthy of better care.

The potions master needed to truly think through the consequences of any action he took. If he started to show too much interest in the child's well-being, the Dark Lord would get suspicious. If, however, he continued to ignore the child, and limit himself greatly in the way of supervising Potter's current state, those that surrounded the boy could make more mistakes until the child ended up breaking, with unknown consequences for the rest world. For all he knew, Harry Potter had the power to vanquish the Dark Lord; how he used it was another matter entirely.

The fifteen year old looked at him with crossed arms in a defensive position and his shoulders squared. Severus sighted audibly; wishing he'd had a stiff drink before having this conversation.

''Lily would have been horrified, as well as furious, if she knew of the way Petunia had treated you and let others mistreat you. Your… mother had too much kindness in her to cause her sister true harm in revenge, but she would have made her pay. Do you understand?'' The potions master spoke slowly.

The fifteen year old remained quiet for few seconds and his stormy gaze did not rise as he replied harshly, ''What is there to misunderstand?''

Severus took a deep breath, completely uncomfortable having such a discussion. He tried and failed to school his tone to be truly gentle. He still heard the stiffness and strictness in his voice, making the comforting words more like a lecture. That did not mean that he spoke without conviction, ''The fault does not lie with you. Petunia used you as a means to release anger and jealousy accumulated years before you were born. She is the one completely at fault, not you.''

Potter met his gaze, and his expression was challenging, ''And what would my mother say on the way you've treated me?''

Severus contemplated not answering this question, for it did not suit him, however the words passed his lips far too easily, ''She would have hexed me most likely, and screamed quite a bit too, I'd imagine.'' The Potion Master paused, waiting for the child to reply. An answer was failing to come, therefore the thirty-six year old continued, ''Different from you Potter, your mother did think more clearly, and I suspect that she would have taken the fact that I saved your sorry life numerous times into consideration. I could not be anything other than what I was in regards to you. The Dark Lord would use any means to get to you, especially if he thought you trusted me.''

''You think that makes it alright?'' The teenager cut in immediately with an angry gaze. Utter arrogance radiated from the child. Harry leaned forward as he continued to speak; his expression betrayed the seriousness of his next accusation, ''You think that switching sides is going to make up for all the bad that you did before.''

''Do not dare to speak of what you know nothing about.'' The Potions Master sneered at him. ''Think of your behavior Potter, and think deep.'' He instructed, however the raven haired boy rolled his eyes, crossed his hands, and looked to the side. The brat knew no limits- or more accurately- his Professor's limits, as Severus continued to scold without thought.

''I was just a year older then you when I took the Dark Mark. It took less than a minute. The Dark Lord took my hand, said a spell, and the rest of my life was defined. I know that regardless of how many people I save, it will never justify the lives I helped to take. Understand this before you learn it on your own skin. It does not take much to lose everything, Potter-''

''I already did; when everyone thought of me as insane when Volde-''

''Do not say his name in my presence!'' Severus raised his voice. He took a steady breath to calm himself, being just too aware of the Dark Mark under his sleeve. At least the brat listened to him. The Potions Professor continued, ''That time you lost your precious devotion from your fans, yet you still had dozens of people jumping around you with support. You do not want to find yourself truly alone. Stop this senseless quest of escaping some rotten journalist's words, and prioritize your life more thoughtfully. You're acting like a melodramatic brat.'' Severus took a deep breath. ''It does not matter that what Skeeter did is wrong. Life is not fair, and you do not hold the power to make it so. In the process to get revenge, you will turn away people who are now dearest to you. That is the wrong choice to make.''

Silence stretched between the two. Their meals arrived, and Severus started to eat calmly. The boy in front of him frowned at his fast-food choice of meal, though the Professor was aware that it was not the object of his conflicted expression. Finally, after the thirty-six year old had contemplated ordering the child to eat, did the fifteen year old grab a slice of the pizza, and slowly consume it. Only then did Severus feel the relief, not realizing how the unhealthy paleness of the brat's skin had given him a reason to be concerned.

''Hypocrite,'' The emerald eyed teenager finally whispered. The word did not sound like an insult, but rather more like a conclusion the child reached in his insulting mind.

''Stubborn Brat.''

OOO

Looking back at the events of the night, Severus knew there were a thousand decisions that could have changed the outcome; or maybe that was his wishful thinking- if he still had the capacity to be optimistic.

After the meal, he did not offer the child dessert. He guided the boy outside the restaurant. Potter's gaze was on his feet, his shoulders were tense, and his face hidden. Severus was wondering to some extent what that ridiculous mind had concluded now, however he did not expect Potter to suddenly stop walking, to look at him with such loss in those emerald gaze. That should have alarmed the man, but it didn't. They continued to walk along the sidewalk, looking for a deserted place from which to apparate.

When such a place seemed close, Potter slowed down in his steps for a second. Severus felt an ice cold chill running from his gut through his veins. He fell forward, his arms unresponsive to protect himself from hitting the ground noisily. He saw Potter's boots walking around him. From the corner of his eyes, he saw an unfamiliar wand in the fifteen year-old's hand.

Potter must have followed his gaze, for he explained, ''I needed a wand so the ministry would not track me down, so I pick-pocketed one.''

Severus Snape wished to curse himself with the darkest of spells for such a basic mistake. Yet, truthfully he had not expected such a move from a Gryffindor. He watched the child with boiling rage. Potter dropped eye contact, and the Potions Master was glad his glare was causing the boy to squirm. Indeed, the ungrateful brat had just earned himself a serious tongue lashing for daring to raise a wand at him, among numerous other punishments he fantasized to express.

''I'm s… the spell will wear off in five minutes.'' Potter continued, looking deeply troubled but also determined. ''I'm too close now to just give up.'' The boy voiced. Severus did not understand the context of the fifteen year-old's senseless confession. ''But, seriously Snape, how could you think I would start talking about my home life without an anterior motive?''

Snape narrowed his eyes at the teenager. He knew his disadvantaged position, and watched Potter's every move carefully.

''Dobby!'' Potter suddenly called.

A 'pop' announced the appearance of said house elf. The fifteen year-old bent down to great the creature who was watching him with wide yellow eyes.

''Master Harry Potter!'' The creature exclaimed joyfully before taking in his surroundings, ''Can Dobby ask why Professor Severus Snape is on the ground? Is he hurt? Do you want Dobby to help him? Dobby can-''

''Calm down, Dobby.'' The teenager broke in. ''Snape's fine… kind of.'' Potter amended seeing his furious expression. The emerald eyed boy turned back to the elf, before asking quietly, ''Could you erase his memories of the past two hours?''

''Yes.'' The elf replied immediately. Severus cursed his own stupidity in underestimating Harry-Bloody-Potter. Emotional wreck or not, the boy was still able to plan rather clearly.

''Great.'' The young wizard responded. ''I'll call you again in about an hour. Lay low until then, but also make sure Professor Snape gets safely back to Hogwarts. Oh, and take my wand from him and keep it safe until then.''

Potter stood up hurriedly, and sent his teacher an apologetic look before turning around and jogging away along the dirty muggle street.

Severus looked at the house elf. His ears were down, obviously scared by the situation. However, that did not stop the little creature for advancing with obvious intent. Severus heart sped, for he sensed that whatever Potter's brat had gotten himself into, it was disastrous. He needed those memories to know that he had to act as soon as possible. With great difficulty, Severus started to move his jaw. The spell was soon to wear of, but in this situation, every second counted.

''Do. Not.''

''Dobby is sorry Professor-''

''Do… you… want to help Potter?'' Severus finally managed to speak with more ease, his limbs were too unresponsive to grab for his wand yet.

''Of course, sir,'' Dobby replied quickly, his ears down. ''Harry Potter is such a good hearted wizard-''

''Regardless.'' Severus said dryly. ''I can help Potter, but only if you do not erase my memories.''

Dobby considered the offer looking deeply torn. ''Harry Potter asked Dobby-''

''But he did not order. You're master is now in grave danger, and he will need my help to overcome it. I will not know this, however, if you take my memories away, Dobby. And then Potter will get gravely hurt, likely even killed. Do you want that for you master?''

''No! Of course not!'' The elf said frantically before his gaze darkened. ''No one hurts Harry Potter. Dobby cannot let that happen.''

Severus thought off a smirk at the fuming elf. The spell had finally worn off.

OOO

Dobby had apparate him the gates of Hogwarts, and waited until he stepped into the wards that surrounded the castle before he disappeared. Severus took a deep breath. He had not been able to convince the elf to tell him what Potter had been up to the entire day; however he had managed to form an alliance with the creature.

The elf could not betray Potter's secrets because the fifteen year old had ordered his silence. This complicated matters, especially since Dobby would not be able to inform him of the next time he met with Potter. The important issue was that he still had his memories, and unless the brat ordered the elf to tell if he had completed the request, Dobby was to keep their alliance a secret.

Severus entered the castle without drawing any attention. He paused by his supply cabinet in his private quarters, and took out a phial of Veritaserum. A memory of himself promising to the Headmaster to never use this potion against him at the age of twenty flashed in his mind. He had been so very naïve at the time, and completely at the mercy of the Headmaster. What made the difference was that Albus had showed more kindness to him later then he had expected or even hoped for. This had blinded the Potions Master to question the man before. He thought of the Headmaster as his mentor and, dare he say it, a friend. The thirty-six year old had waited too long and hoped too much now to be blindly loyal.

With a somber expression, Severus knew exactly how he would use his new alliance with the house elf.

 **OOO**

 **This chapter was betaed by** Moriarty's Watson


	6. The wild wine

"[I]t is the wine that leads me on,  
the wild wine  
that sets the wisest man to sing  
at the top of his lungs,  
laugh like a fool – it drives the  
man to dancing... it even  
tempts him to blurt out stories  
better never told."  
― Homer, _The Odyssey_

 _Chapter Six_

The caramel-skinned girl gasped as she fell to the damp pavement, the unforgiving concrete biting into the flesh of her naked legs. Her feet were bruised, a result of wearing such heels. She checked her knees and hissed at the few drops of blood that were visible in the lantern light. Well that was just great. Her legs were wobbly, threatening to buckle beneath her, yet in the end she was victorious against the battle with her own body. The short-haired young woman continued on her way, her pace quickening.

Her gaze travelled around the somber streets in hopes of finding an object of great value. She knew she must have dropped it around here somewhere when she had been hanging out with her friends several hours before. Her steps were rushed, spurred by the chilly air. The warm bed in her small room was sounding more and more welcomed by the minute.

''You forgot something?'' A young voice echoed between the walls. The girl turned around, and noticed the hooded figure sitting on a slightly drier part of the street, his face covered by shadows. She had noticed him before; her friends and she had made a joke at his expense as they went along their way earlier in the evening.

It was well past midnight, and her grandmother would kill her if it was found out that she had snuck out again. Yet, as she watched the guy a few meters away, she felt slightly bad for her insulting thoughts. His voice held a friendly politeness that was uncommon these days, accompanied by a deep tiredness. Indeed, fatigue was rolling off the raven hair boy in waves.

Curious, the girl took a step towards him. A chill went through her body. She was close to home, but she wasn't stupid enough to not be wary of strangers. She finally saw his eyes, and she decided that she would blame her irresponsibility on her hormones if she got burned by her curiosity. So the girl asked, ''Got a light?''

It seemed the guy didn't expect her to continue the conversation. He took a focused look at her, and she decided that he was about fifteen, though still waiting on a growth spurt she hoped.

Something flashed in those emerald eyes, and with surprise the guy stated, ''I know you, you're-you're shivering.''

As if on cue, another shudder overpowered her body. Annoyed at herself, she took a seat on an old wooden box on the opposite side of the narrow street.

''It's nothing. Would you light my cigarette?'' His eyebrows rose high. She snorted, if the guy was so easily impressed by her directness then maybe he wasn't worth a thought. ''What are you staring at?

''Nothing. You look familiar, is all.'' He said quickly. She was about to get up, but a sudden lightheadedness forced her to sit back down.

When she opened her eyes again, the emerald eyed boy had moved closer, supporting her arm hesitantly, ''Can you make it?''

She gave a small chuckle, feeling amused by his unexpected concern. Here in the middle of the night she found the knight-in -white-armor-type.

''Just haven't eaten much today. At least the room stopped spinning.'' She explained. He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. An awkward silence settled between them, and the girl giggled at his uncomfortable expression as he let go of her arm. A little humor never hurt anyone. The girl smiled slightly, and she decided to break the tension, ''Well?'''

''Nothing,'' He said taking a step back. He put his hands in his pockets, his head hanging sullenly. It was only as she saw him walking away, that she finally realized why he looked so familiar to her too.

''Wait,'' the girl called to him, not entirely convinced that her suspicions were correct. "Any chance you went to the primary school two streets over?''

The teen paused and turned around. He nodded shortly with narrowed eyes.

''Who's Mrs. Crock?'' She tested.

''Obese maths teacher,'' his response was immediate, and she smiled. She had been right after all.

''What did Mrs. Tickarter teach?'' the emerald eyed teen asked.

Her smile grew and she playfully rolled her eyes. ''Oh, boy, tricky question. She was the librarian. Extremely obsessed with her books, mind you.''

''She was nice.'' He replied truly, with a shrug.

''Now you messed up the game!'' She accused with humor.

He seemed confused when he responded, ''How?''

''You're that elephant-sized kid's cousin. I remember you, spending almost all of your time in the library. It's Harry, right? Only you could call that witch nice.''

After a second, a laugh burst out of his chest. There was a strangled edge in his voice, but it felt nice to make him laugh regardless.

''It's good to see you're more than skin and bones now.''

''Yeah,'' Harry agreed. She remembered the sullen friendless boy in their class.

''I'm sorry, but I can't recall your name,'' He said sheepishly.

 _'Well, that is no way to impress a girl,_ ' she thought. Feeling playful, she replied with a smirk. ''Guess. ''

''Something with a T?''

''Cold.''

''With an F then?''

''Freezing cold.'' She snored. Seriously? ''I'll tell you for a match.''

She must have stirred his curiosity, for he passed her a box of them. She pulled a match from the ratty box. Taking in his good looking cloths against the homelessness of his situation, she replied:''Patty.''

''Patty?'' The emerald eyed boy tested the name on his tongue before it clicked. ''Patricia Wouterms?''

''Waterms. And do I look like my grandmother? It's just Patty.''

She lit her cigarette and inhaled the smoke greedily. Suddenly, she remembered her purpose: to find her dammed jumper. She was about to stand up and look again when Harry's voice drew her attention.

''Why don't you forget that stuff? You look like you're fourteen.''

''I'm sixteen, but I'm old for my age, I'm just born to be bad.'' Patty promised with a wink, before moving around a bit to see if the jumper wasn't simply lost in the shadows. Harry crossed his arms, Harry crossed his arms and used friction of his hands to warm up his skin.

From her crouched position, she commented loudly, ''I used to shiver like that.'' 

''I haven't got a coat.'' He defended himself against her subtle accusation.

''I used to sweat,'' She challenged again.

''I've got a cold''

''Uh huh, so what are you doing on the street?''

''Ran away from home. You?''

There! The jumper was just few feet away in a puddle of mud. Absolutely gross, but she liked it too much to let it go.

''I just needed some air.'' She had no excuse to stay here any longer, but it felt wrong to leave her old classmate alone in the cold. Wondering what in the word could have happened to cause him to end up here, she continued, ''Is your whale of a cousin still alive?''

''He actually lost half of that whale fat recently.''

''Good for him. So I know I shouldn't ask why you ran away from home, but why did you?''

She waited for an answer _patiently_. ''It's complicated,"

''Fine, I'll shut up.'' Patty decided that would be for the best. It was none of her business after all. She was about to walk away, when the image of a seven year old Harry standing up to his cousin when he and his gang had pulled her hair and had been picking in her for most of the day. She knew they had beaten him up for it. It was years ago, but a wave of gratefulness for that action, together with the quick way in which he was ready to help a few minutes ago, made her feel sorry for him. She always took him for one of those good people who didn't know how to get lucky. It must suck to be a loser.

''You know, my mom's working during the night. You can crash at my place tonight if you want.''

He looked bewildered and stumbled over his words, ''Are you sure? ''

''Sure. We've just got to be quiet.''

He took a step closer, his hands still in his pockets, and something in his emerald gze sent a chill through her body. ''You don't know me.''

''I know your guardian's names, more or less where they live, and I know you're cousin is a jerk. That's got to count for something.'' She challenged with a smile. Harry still looked surprised, but finally gave her a nod and a timid smile.

''Fine, you know more about me then I do about you.''

''There is not much to tell. Father left the family four years ago. I live with my half-deaf grandma, little brother, and a mother who works her arse off even on weekends.'''

They were walking side by side when he replied, ''I'm sorry.''

''I'm not.'' She replied as a way of explanation and closure to the subject. As a thought entered her mind, she fought off a humorless chuckle. ''I don't want sound like a bitch, but you look screwed worse than I am.''

Harry made the impression as if he actually contemplated her words before giving her a humorless smile, as if in agreement. She smiled back as a silent understanding passed between them.

OOO

''May be we should inform the Muggle police?''

Severus closed his eyes. Frustration was swimming in his gut as the werewolf spoke.

Mrs. Weasley's voice brought even more chaos to the gathering, "Why hasn't it already been done?"

Sleep deprivation was slowly catching up with the Potions Master. Dawn was barely two hours away, and unlike most of the people in the room he had not slept the night before due to a Death Eater meeting. Suddenly, he realized that the Dark Lord had not called him yet. Severus swallowed the coffee Mrs. Weasley had prepared for the Order Members. Lucius was no longer around to visit in order to get the most recent information and Narcissa never cared for the Death Eaters purpose. Judging by the last he saw of her, she wasn't likely to be a valuable source of information at any rate.

''Hogwarts does not officially exist in the muggle world. We would have no way to explain the situation, nor any claim if they were to find him.''

''There are squibs or family members of muggleborns that could help! The key muggle politicians know about us and they know who Harry is!'' The enraged woman stated strongly. ''And what excuse is that! He is a fifteen year-old child who is very likely to be sleeping on the streets right now, cold and hungry. And the dangers out there-''

 _'Well,_ ' Severus thought with sour amusement, _'at least the brat wasn't hungry._ ' The raven haired man took another mug of coffee, realizing a more healthy choice would have been black tea. He felt compelled to tell the truly concerned woman that, at least before midnight, her precious Harry had been just fine. However, just imagining the mayhem this would cause made Severus' head ache dully, the idea of being at the center of their stares making his skin crawl. Moreover, no one had even bothered to ask where he had been, and he would likely never admit that Potter had managed to trick him. The only reason he tolerated the current noise level in the overcrowded room was for the need to find Albus.

''We have to divide our search parties. None of us can work effectively without rest.'' Kingsley's curt voice echoed throughout the room.

''That boy must be found.'' Alastor Moody interjected. ''He is hiding well. He can't know the wizard streets well enough to do that, nor can he know the entirety of muggle Great Britain.'' The old Auror took a seat, his human eyes narrowing at the air in front. ''He must be within an area he knows.''

The room quietened at the deduction. If Alastor had voiced this idea a few hours before, they would have already found Potter. His trip to Petunia's house proved that there may be some logic in Moody's theory. What the fifteen year old had been searching for there still confused the Potions Master. Perhaps, at a loss for anything else to do, the boy had decided to confront his traitorous cousin, or abusive aunt, or even the infamous uncle he had not yet had the pleasure of meeting. That man he did feel like cursing and he was certain that Lily wouldn't mind.

''But,'' Nymphadora Tonks hesitantly broke into the conversation. ''Where is that? I can't imagine him going back to his relatives. And we actually don't even know the name of that primary school he attended...''

Molly, whose method to fight stress was obviously to cook enough to feed a small army, almost dropped the plate of sandwiches she carried. The room quietened, as somber emotions started to circulate within the group. Severus took another sip of his coffee.

''Where is Albus?'' The words were more of a demand than a curious musing. Molly's gaze held accusation, but her own guilt was readily apparent in their depths, likely for not being more observant or more firm with the Headmaster before. It was clear that, though Potter's brat was not her own child, she wished to integrate him into her family.

Severus drifted away from the conversation slightly, taking time to examine the Burrow's living room. It was an emergency meeting. The walls were rough around the edges. Overused yet well-kept furniture decorated the room. The door's handle was a bit loose. There was little to compliment on the décor, yet there was something more valuable in this room that had not been present at Petunia's. Her fake smiles could not compare to Mrs. and Mr. Weasley's concerned gaze. Potter would have rejoiced in living here as opposed to his aunt's and Severus couldn't blame the fifteen year old for it.

Black's death had sealed Grimmauld Place shut, and they needed the new heir to the fortune to reopen the door before even Albus- as the secret keeper- could let anyone in. Such a process required the Headmaster and the hopeless teenager to cooperate.

''He should be here any minute.''

Severus Snape concluded that a miracle would be welcomed in their situation. He could not count on random chance. He thought of a way to track the child down. The spells failed due to the Blood Protection, but a Blood Potion infused the blood of a close relative could work. The problem was he didn't actually have one in stock. To prepare a new dose would take two days, and he would need a few fresh drops of Petunia's blood toward the end of his brewing. _'_ _That shouldn't really_ _be an issue,_ ' the man thought with a cruel glint in his dark eyes. Still, did they really have the time to waste? Two days was plenty of time for the boy to fall in to harm's way. If the Dark Lord called at the wrong moment, he would have to bin it and begin again. He wasn't even entirely certain that the potion would work.

''What about Harry's cousin-'' Fred Weasley suddenly voiced from where his twin and he were leaning against the wall.

''He did sound like less of prat when we last met him-'' George Weasley continued.

''He could tell us were to look-'' one twin grinned at the other.

One straightened his back, and the other copied him, ''And besides, dear all-''

''It would not be-''

''-a waste of time-''

''-to visit the Dursley's-''

''-and teach them that Harry has people who care.''

''And that they have sins to pay for.'' Fred Weasley ended on a sharper note; his face was passive, but the desire for revenge on behalf of the younger wizard was evident in his eyes.

It was the first topic that spiked the thirty-six year-old's curiosity. Their family gave them the shortest stares out of all present. Another argument was about to break loose, when the floo came to life.

The Headmaster materialized from the fire, and for a moment his expression seemed grave. He confidently smiled in greeting at the group, before asking his audience to listen. The entire process was flawless, so much so that Severus almost missed the moment when foreign feelings started to mask his own. The Headmaster was skilled in more than Transfiguration. Severus was quick to shield his mind against the unwarranted intrusion, keeping his sober mind.

''I have just met with the Head of the Auror Department. They will keep as many of their Auror's on the search as they can spare. The muggle police are now out to look for Harry, as well. I recommend you try to take a rest, and we will resume our own search tomorrow.'' Albus paused. ''What we learned today has shocked us all. For Harry's sake, I wish to ask you to concentrate on the task of finding him. I hope he will be able to count on all of us for support.''

The Potion Master wished to snort, but the action was too undignified. As if Dumbledore sensed his intention, the two met each other's gaze. Severus understood the request to be silent and for the first time it was not boredom, frustration, or amusement on being better informed then the others, or more informed then Black. Now he felt challenged.

The Headmaster continued steadily, ''Another matter is that any further meetings will take place at Hogwarts for all of our safety. Arthur and Molly, you are welcome to take shelter there. I fear Death Eaters will turn up at your home, looking for information about Harry.''

And so the speech went, with Molly being the only one to reprimand the Headmaster for his elusive wording today and in the past. It was a pity that she did not demand of Albus to swear to never let the boy go back to the Dursley's. Severus imagined the motherly woman still retained too much faith in the Headmaster, to even contemplate such an action.

As quickly as Albus came, he was ready to end the meeting. The raven haired man was about to request a word with the old man, when the Headmaster beat him to the task. Wordlessly the Potion Master followed his mentor through the floo.

In the back of his mind he planned a way to call for the house elf. Dobby could bring Veritaserum, sip in in the Headmaster's tea, and he could start his questions. Severus did not take his usual seat once they were back at Hogwarts. The black haired man raised his eyebrows, for he felt Albus' mood to be perturbed. He silently wished- with a degree of annoyance- that he were a more accomplished Legilimens, but in his case Occlumency was a far more valuable art to master.

Albus searched for something on his desk, before passing the parchment without meeting his employee's gaze. Confused, which Severus did not enjoy, the Potion master looked at the piece of paper.

Rita Skeeter's Open Apology

 _To my shame, I had not anticipated the consequences of yesterday's article. With the deepest regret, I must admit that I had presented Harry Potter's childhood without knowing much about it. I had used material to support my false hypothesis…_

And so the article from today's unpublished edition continued on, saying all and nothing of how her previous work was a misunderstanding.

''What the-'' Severus cut himself off before he cursed, but his skepticism did not fade as he looked toward the grave face of the Headmaster. They both knew that the abuse had indeed taken place.

''How?''

''The copy of Harry's Hogwarts Acceptance letter vanished, just like Rita Skeeter's journalistic ambitions.'' Albus said, in a voice full of regret, pain, and twinkling calculation. ''I fear, my boy, that Harry has used the Imperius Curse.''

 **OOO**

 **This chapter was betaed by** Moriarty's Watson


	7. Fearless

"Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful."  
― Mary Shelley, _Frankenstein_

 _Chapter Seven_

The potion master's tired mind sped through the hours he spend with the brat. He had never contemplated this. In the light of other unexplained circumstances in which other proves of the abuse vanished, this was a logical conclusion: Potter's brat must have used the other wand to perform the curse. If so, it will be hard for the ministry to detect, yet if someone looked close enough- like the Headmaster had apparently, not impossible either.

Did the child want to be send to Azkaban? Did he think he was so above rules? Had he lost his mind!

''That's want happens when you tame a lion.'' His sarcasm dropped thickly like blood. Severus spoke without hiding his anger toward the man he did partially blame for the current situation. ''It rebels.''

''I need your help to make sure no-one else will ever make the same deduction as I did.'' Albus spoke with a plea that rang in his voice.

''You created this mess.'' The Potion Master articulate quietly so the message would finally get to the Headmaster.

''When I was leaving Harry with Petunia, I did not know she would turn so bitter toward her own nephew. I was aware that she could favour her own son over Harry, but I hope the love for her sister would prevent this. I never suspected she would neglect him.'' Albus defended himself, his eyes not twinkling anymore.

''Answer me one question Albus, when you had send the boy back to his relatives after his first year, did you know of the neglect?'' Severus demanded with unmerciful eyes.

When the Headmaster remained quiet, and turned his head to the side with a faraway look, anger rose within the younger man. ''I bet you knew before he even came to Hogwarts.'' He continued with crossed arms ''You had a woman watch him, and unless she is brain dead, she had to report to you that Potter's brat was being mistreated-''

''The reports were not-'' Albus started with in a hurried voice, and confirming the accusation at the same time. The Headmaster suddenly moved across his office with a purpose, and anger flared in Severus.

''It does not matter!'' The Potion Master thundered. ''Regardless if you looked or not into them, you are equally guilty. And be careful old man, because I am no fool, and I know you would have checked on your Golden _Weapon_. Was the starvation not serious enough to act? I know Death Eaters with more empathy then that!''

''You're forgetting yourself Severus.'' The Headmaster finally took a more authoritarian tone, silencing the younger man. ''I care for Harry's life. You can judge me for being immoral by choosing to harden the child's spirit instead of acting directly, but look around! Can you imagine James Potter to go through Harry's trials holding his responsibility and survive? Or would he rather freeze before his opponent at the same age?''

Albus grounded his feet steadily on the ground. He spoke in a voice of a leader: ''This war is not about the most powerful wizard, but the strongest human. Would you wish for Voldemort to reign over the world at the price of Harry's happiness during his childhood? Was I to stand aside and let events just pass, or help Harry to become strong enough to not run away in the face of the trials ahead of him?'' Albus took a deep breath, his tone more was gentler then before: ''Harry has all the magical power he needs, and that what he might need I will give him.

As to magical knowledge, it was impossible from the start to teach a boy all about magic, strategy and human nature that Tom Riddle knows after decades of study and practice. Even if he had a mentor to train him from a toddler age: that would have made a boy a weapon, and I had never gone there.''

Severus could only watch with a tense jaw as Albus took a seat at his desk, before continuing in a softer tone: ''I will not live forever. Now Hogwarts with its students are safe, but if I should perish sooner than I would want, who will be there to protect them? Truth is, there is just Harry.

I am not sacrificing the child. I am doing all I can to make sure Harry has a future after this war, that he will not share Lili's fate as a martyn. That when the war breaks, and dark days will come over this world, he will have the strength to go on and fight for his own liberty, and by extension, the rest of the worlds too.

What would Harry's happy childhood give him if he would end up dead before even becoming a man? He would at best share his father's fate, which is no wish to have. The child deserves more, and he will have the chance to start his own family, and live a life full of love.

I won't deny that Harry was abused. Neither can I say that I was completely unaware the past few years. Think of me all you what, but without hardening the child's spirit, he would have been dead by now, or he would have had no chance to even attempt to bring Voldemort down, even if he possess the power to do so.

I choose to place him at Privet Drive because the blood protection is incomparable to the Wards at Hogwarts. Otherwise, Harry would not be able to stand against Voldemort in his spiritual form. Even today it is the Blood Protection that makes his Aunt's house safe from those he wish his death. And do not forget Severus Snape, I did not know when or how the Dark Lord would come back, so do not judge me by your present knowledge.

The prophesy does not state who will win, or how, all is known is that Harry has the power to defeat Voldemort, and in their battle, one will lose his life. The war is far from won. I did what I could with the information I knew.''

OOO

Harry looked better in clean cloths. They were too big, and a bit worn, but at least her good-for-nothing-father's cloths weren't being wasted on the shelves.

''You seriously never had alcohol?'' Patty asked shocked. ''Not even like a sip to get the taste on Sylvester?''

''No.'' The fifteen year old affirmed, as he gave an uncertain look toward the bottle she had purchased.

''Which school do you go to?''

Harry suddenly took her by the arm, and in one swift motion placed the bottle of liquor in his oversized jumper. She was about to yell at him, before she noticed police officers walking down the street in their way. Patty felt him pull her hand and soon the two were hiding in a narrow passage full of trash while they waited for the two man to pass.

When the danger was over, Patty turned with wide eyes at her new friend: ''Are you an escaped criminal or something?''

''Or Something.'' He replied, while making sure again that the policeman were gone. ''I doubt my relatives would put me as missing, but my school could have.''

''Wait, how would they know? You told me you had run away yesterday, and today is Sunday.'' She accused with narrowed eyes. This smelled like lies.

''It's a boarding school.'' He said curtly.

''The type with metal bars in the windows?'' She wasn't even sure herself if she was sarcastic.

''Very funny. No, a norm- a boarding school.'' His voice was flat yet rushed, and Patty did not understand where his stress came from.

''Alright, Boarding-school-boy, so since I let you sleep at my place tonight, you own me a favour. And I do feel like getting a drink.'' She took pleasure in now catching his hand and guiding him in the direction of her favourite spot to watch the afternoon London. ''Or I won't let you in tonight!''

''That's blackmail.'' She shot him a look and he sighted before continuing: ''I don't get what is so great in sitting down and drinking.''

''Don't be such a buzzkill Harry Potter!'' She tried to pout at him, but he didn't take it seriously. ''Let's play a game then: we say everything and anything that seriously screwed us up and drink a shot to celebrate it. Because my friend, we are still here and stronger at every time.'' She giggled, and Harry could probably tell that she was still a bit buzzed from yesterday evening before they met. Oh, well, if she had her way, she would loosen up his tense exterior too.

''We'll need more than one bottle.'' He rolled his eyes. His voice was disapproving, yet Patty took the words like victory.

''Now that's the spirit!''

She put her hand in his, as the caramel skinned girl guided her school friend through the grey crowed streets. She lead the way, offering a comment here and there about the stores as they passed. Harry'e emerald eyes were curiously examining the area. His gaze held no judgement. She felt compelled by the stare, even if not directed at her. Patty wondered Harry had a girlfriend. He might not be tall and muscly, yet he was attractive. A maturity that she held not shinned through his young face.

Her mischievous grin only grew when she finally found her gang. The group was sitting around a half-collapsing building: ''It's not Las Vegas, but it's relatively safe to go on the roof, where the view of the west London is simply amazing. There is also a chill discotheque in the basement down the street, and two more in close proximity. It's definably not a place for kids, and totally made if you want to lose yourself in the fun. Hey, Sam! Meet my old friend Harry!''

Patty felt the fifteen year old tense by her side when he was made the centre of attention of her eight friends.

''Old friend? Doesn't look so old to me, more like a kid than anything else.'' Sam joked at Harry's expense. The nineteen year old grabbed a bottle of transparent liquor and took a long sip, before throwing the bottle toward the caramel skinned girl.

''His cool though, and kicked out from home by his guardians.'' She explained as she nursed a drink herself, finally passing the bottle to the hesitant emerald eyed teen. ''So he could use some moral support from our bunch.''

''You're such a sucker for losers Patty.'' Sam criticized with a wine.

''That's probably why I put up with you.'' She smirked.

The girl saw Harry's eyes narrow in annoyance. Oh, she should have told him not to raise his head too high with Sam around. Sam liked her: great for her. Yet, Sam had issues liking people too, which often ended worse than she expected.

Before the raven haired boy would get his pretty face in trouble, Patty cried out as she put on the music louder: ''Now don't be a jealous prick and give poor Harry here a bear!''

OOO

Severus Snape nursed an awful head-ache. When he would get his hand on Potter's brat, he will twist that- No.

He absolutely loathed being a spy on days like this. He had no compassion. He held no affection. He had to be nothing more than eyes, ears and intellect. He could do this fine. He knew how to supress the better part of himself. He knew how to be cold and emotionless, devioded of instinctual sense of right and wrong. He knew how to see the profit, and look past the lost.

But as in but one morning he had to help the Headmaster to cover after the fifteen year old transgressions to save his hide: his human part collided with the profit. He had caused a fire in Minevra's office, and already arranged evidence to but the blame on a pair of careless first year Gryffindor's. The two children would get punished for what they did not, but at least everyone will know that consulting Potter's first Hogwarts Letter now was impossible. This way, no-one would get too suspicious.

Albus took care about the imperio curse, as to the evidence of it's use were never to be found. They would have to go with Potter's brat's plan about Skeeter, and fabricate few evidence for her to loose credibility in the public eye.

As ordered, he had taken few hours of rest. Now, as afternoon descended upon the English streets, he had to accompany the order to Privet Drive. Aurors and few Weasleys were already present when he came.

Petunia was like a worm caught in a vase among the wizards. Severus had barely entered, but as soon as their gaze met, the two glared at each other, before continuing with the conversation they were previously occupied by. For the blond, this was a questioning. For the spy, it was an overly talkative Tonks who caught him up to speed on all that was going on as he entered with the Headmaster.

Albus took care of the situation, and Severus had the time to walk upstairs. The locks of one of the door were there. There were seven, and about ten other holes in the wooden door suggestion that there had been many more of them. The Death Eater had no audible words to comment.

Inside, the room was simple but clean. A bed. A dress. A desk. A chair. And bed covers. Hospitals had more hospitality.

''Came to gloat some?'' A low voice whispered by his side, and Severus turned slowly in the pale room to see the sister of his best friend. Petunia crossed her arms, angry tears were swimming in her eyes- but there no remorse in them, just self-pity. ''I thought at least you would understand.''

''Understand?'' Severus tested the word with disgust on his tongue: ''You abused Lily's child. Your sister's. The same girl's who had always search to ease your jealousy. To help you. To stay a sister. I don't know how those wards are functioning. You couldn't have loved Lily to come to this.''

She grimaced as if in pain: ''I love my sister. I tried to stop to love her and her freakish world. I tried to forget. But I lost her too, you know?'' Severus watched her with a straight back as she took a step into the room, not before of course she checked the corridor to make sure the two were alone. ''And I tried to love her son. I really did, for years, but no matter how much I tried, I never could stop seeing Harry as the reason my sister lies now cold in a grave... I don't hate Lily Severus, I loved my little sister. But I hate her son for being the reason she did what she did. I know it's wrong. I know I should not blame a boy for being born or alive, but in the end, I still don't love him- not like a mother- not like an aunt. I only took him in so Lily's sacrifice wouldn't be in vain.''

''It's not his fault.'' The potion master said strongly, absolutely sure of his words. He had never took that road in his thoughts. He had blamed everyone in his time that his Lily wad gone, and he blamed himself most of them all: James, Black, Petigrew, Albus, Longbottoms, the Dark Lord… but to blame- no, he knew Lily. The real Lily, she was pure, and she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she survived when her own son did not.

''So who should I blame?'' Petunia's voice cut through his thoughts.

''Have you told Potter that?''

''No, of course not, I'm not a monster.'' She spoke quickly.

''You are.'' Her childhood friend affirmed. ''There are just too many worse monsters then you.''

OOO

The caramel skinned sixteen year old took a step back. Her shoulder touched her friend's back. The lights were turning off and on. Off and On. The frequency made her shiver- butterflies which hold no happy feelings swam in her gut. The wind was picking up too! She watched the cups put their guns down, far too compelled by a sense of approaching darkness.

Shadows were vibrating. She knew she had drunk a bit. She knew it had been more than a healthy dose, but it felt like her entire being was dreading the unknown in the shadows. What was happening on this street was impossible.

The engine of the cars does not turn off by itself. Windows do not break from the pure power of the wind. She pulled on Harry's hand, not understanding how he could not be shaking as hard as she was.

Patricia was frightened, fully and truly. She did not understand what was going on. Harry's eyes were still closed. Sam let out a startled cry as one of the pipes on the stone buildings were torn of somehow. But the metal did not fall to the ground. Instead they started to fly in circles, on the second turn, the pipes impelled the police car right through the engine. The lights of the car died. The police officers ran away. Someone screamed, and it was close too, only later, did she realize that it was her own voice.

She had to run, there was no telling what this foreign hurricane would do next. With all her force, she pushed Harry to stand up and screamed. Her resolve almost crumbled, and she almost left him there to this strange force. Harry opened his eyes though. The gaze was glassy, drank, and not aware of his surroundings.

She kicked him in the back, and called for Sam to help. Harry and Sam had gotten into a quarrel. And as brute savages guys are, Sam took a go with his fist in their drunken banner. Now this was not important anymore! Now they had to get away from the crazy storm around! The two were able to take get him somewhat on his feet, and even if Sam drank too, she cared not as they run few streets away until they reached the car. The hurricane was following them. How could this be! But it was dying out as they left the place stained by Harry's blood, the power in the air- how else was she supposed to explain it- was fading away. She was glad Harry was looking more and more conscious.

She was about to yell at Sam to drive- drive to a hospital for Harry. However she wanted to check the state of his broken nose before she did so- Patty forgot to breathe when Harry's nose looked perfectly alright, only the blood on his skin and cloths proved that Sam's fist had smashed into it.

''Wha-'s g-o-in-on?'' The emerald eyed guy whispered in a hoarse tone.

Patty looked to Sam, who shared the same look of pure shock on his face. Through the windows, the three could see a police car impaled by pipes. A crowd of people was slowly gathering with wild questioning voices.

''Sam! Drive! Just get us the hell out of here! Drive! Go!'' Patty screamed feeling irrationally anxious, like the people on the street would all suddenly look at their car with accusing gazes.

Sam did as she asked, his blue wide eyes focused on the road as they broke the speed limit just after ten seconds.

''Did you see his nose-'' exclaimed Sam. A black cloud passed just in front of a car.

Suddenly, a woman materialized out of the darkest shadows. She had curly hair and creepily pale skin. She wore the blackest of dresses from a different epoch. In her hand, she held something- an object- but Patty had no way of being certain- because she was standing in the pathway of the car. In order to not hit her, Sam turned the wheel blindly to the right, and all she felt was the shock of the car smashing into a wall.

Somehow, Patty was still breathing when she saw glass from the broken windows on her lap. For once, she loved her dad for curving into her the reflex of putting on a seat belt. As Patty took a shattered breath, her mind finally understood that the black haired woman had smiled before Sam smashed his brother's car.

The caramel skinned girl felt Harry stir next to her. He opened his green eyes, and sat up with difficulty. Patty suspected that he won't be able to keep his balance for long.

Steps of female heels echoed on the street. There were cracking sounds, one after another, more and more. An insane laugh froze the sixteen year old girl to her bones: ''Little Potter! Little Harry! Stop playing! Hide and seek is over! And no-one is going to save you! You're alone! All alone! And you'll end like Siriu-''

Patty looked to Harry for help. However, her old school friend was angry, so very furious that she could swear sparks were flying around in the air. The ridiculously skipping woman entered their way of sight, she was pointing at them with a stick- Patty noticed as blood was dropping from her own forehead onto her lap.

Suddenly the woman with the blackest of dresses was thrown away by an invisible force. As if an explosion which could not be heard nor seen pushed her to the ground. She saw an adult man among many who wore only black, and they looked wrecked with shock.


	8. House I know well

"What's your name?"  
"Becky Thatcher. What's yours? Oh, I know. It's Thomas Sawyer."  
"That's the name they lick me by. I'm Tom when I'm good. You call me Tom, will you?"  
"Yes"  
― Mark Twain, _The Adventures of Tom Sawyer_

 _Chapter Eight_

The six year old boy sat on the soft yellow carpet in his room. Dudley arranged all his soldiers into their positions. The child narrowed his eyes, causing the excess of skin to form into an ugly pattern- not that he was aware of it. However, moving back and forth on the floor was exhausting for the boy. Boring too. It was taking too long between the attacks. Dudley exhaled, bemused. He wanted an epic battle, with dirt, sweat and wounds! Not some stupid toys who did nothing on their own and made him do all the work himself!

He wished Piers could have come. Then they could do the battle together… An idea entered the boy's mind. He grinned in a manner that would scare younger children. With speed he used only for himself, Dudley run downstairs and yanked open the cupboard door. His freak of a cousin was sitting on the bed, with a book he was reading under the bright lamp and his baby-ish blanket tucked at his side.

Harry looked at his cousin with surprise, and unconsciously edged away from the much more impressively built boy.

''Get up you lazy sack! I need you to help me with my toys!'' Dudley demanded.

''I'm tired. I just finished my chores, and in an hour I'll have to clean the sitting room, kitchen and help your mom make dinner and clean up that too.'' Dudley heard the plea in his voice. There were dark circles under his eyes indeed. But the youngest Dursley told himself he should not care. His parents never did, and no-one ever said anything wrong about it. So, that was the normal way to treat a freak like Harry.

''You have a bed time at half past seven. You are a complete baby if you can't have enough sleep between then and morning. I go to sleep at ten, or sometimes even midnight if I want, and have no problem during the day.''

''You sleep past noon sometimes. And just because I go here doesn't mean I fall asleep.'' The smaller boy returned. Dudley saw that he looked sad about something. That was another thing that made Harry strange: he was staring a lot instead of talking.

''Just get up and out already or I'll give you something to mope about.'' There, Dudley was rather pleased with himself for repeating a phrase his father used often on the freak.

With a dramatic sight, Harry put his book back on the shelves in the cupboard, before crawling out of the small space. He stood before his older cousin, and the other boy wasted no time to take the slimmer one by the hand and drag him up the stairs. The stupid black haired boy tripped almost two times. Dudley concluded that the freak was helpless as he had to pull him up in a vertical direction to prevent him from falling. The six year old was far too excited to waste time on that game now.

Dudley forced Harry to stand on the carpet in his room. The boy with a lot of skin made his way to the opposite side of the battle field.

''Sit" Dudley odered.

Harry slowly lowered himself on the carpet. He kept his gaze on the other boy. He was stiff as a stick, and thin as one too. The raven haired boy glanced quickly at the toys around, before looking at the blond expectantly.

''Move the soldiers when I advance. Try to attack, but remember that you have the dark soldiers, which are bad, so you will lose.''

''Why do I have to play with the bad guys?''

''Because your hair is dark, and everyone knows that dark is bad.'' The six year old concluded.

His freak cousin rose his eyebrows high in bewilderment: ''You can't judge people by their hair!''

''Yes I can, and I am right, freak. Ask my dad if you don't believe me.'' Dudley threatened, getting annoyed always when the freak asked his weird questions. As an after-thought, the blond boy was proud of his reaction, because his parents acted the same way.

Harry looked down at his lap, but he secretly glared at his cousin. Dudley was getting impatient, and he threw one of the dark soldiers- that should have been on the opposite side of the carpet anyway- at the freak's head. Harry immediately covered the hurting area with his hand, and started to rub it, but he gave no protest, as he obediently took the fallen soldier and placed him next to the other members of his army.

Dudley used six of his men to attack on the first front. He used one specific soldiers to destroy right through the centre of Harry's formation. He then moved back to change the soldier. When he was back, he noticed the change in the dark formation immeadiatly. Those soldiers had kept their division, yet that freak somehow manage to move them to his back, changing the front of the battle completely.

Dudley smirked at his cousin, as if that would work. He turned to move his own formation to the side for better aim. He threw three of his soldiers at Harry's and knowcked four of them down. Suddenly, Harry used both hands to throw half of his soldiers from either group toward the white soldiers. Knocking a far too significant part of them off.

Dudley gave a cry of outrage: ''You can't do that!'' He threw the soldier he had currently in his hand again at the freak with all his force.

''Ow! What was that for?'' Harry demanded as he massaged his wounded arm.

''Cheating!''

''I did not! I did what you asked me to!''

''I said that- that you will lose, which means that I will win, you idiot!'' Dudley defended his cause strongly.

''Some of your soldiers are still standing! Or just get them up, it's your game.'' Harry's voice quietened toward the end. The younger boy rose the sleeve of the large shirt he was wearing to reveal a nasty forming buries.

''Geez, you're such a baby. I'm so telling mom on you.'' The child decided out loud.

''What for?'' Dudley heard a breaking note in the younger boy's voice.

''Ruining my game. You always mess up everything.'' The boy accused.

''That's not true!''

''It is so! I wish you died with your parents so I wouldn't have to put up with you! You are just a freak stealing my dad's money!'' Dudley took a much needed breath before restarting: ''And you are bad! You with your weird accidents! You're- you're evil.'' Dudley said the complicated word, and was proud he got in right.

Next to the window however, stood a boy who used both his hands to hug himself. He did not look that evil, especially when a tear run down his cheek. Dudley was about to tell him that may be the night his parents died in the car accident, he had cried too, which distracted them and caused the accident in the end… however, when the smaller boy used a hand to cover his face somehow the words died on his tongue. Dudley grimaced at the strange sensation in his stomach. This kind of verbal attack was different from ''Harry Hunting''. He had beaten his cousin up plenty of times, and he always felt amused at the effect. Now, the freak was not running or arguing with him anymore. He was just crying silently, and Dudley decided that… it was not fun like this, without the freak continuing to sell his lies or make them hunt him down because he ran.

''Duddkins? Where are you my sweety?'' his mom's voice echoed down the corridor. She walked quickly, and soon stood in the doorway of his bedroom.

She immediately noticed Harry, for her smile fell. There was a strange pause when Dudley could not understand his mother's expression as she took in Harry's form, but her voice finally settled to a scolding edge: ''What are you doing here boy?''

Before the freak had time to respond, Dudley cut in, annoyed that his mom had not given him her attention: ''I wanted him to help me help play, but he doesn't even know how to play! He is stupid.''

Petunia turned her gaze to her son, and again her expression was unreadable to the child.

''Go downstairs boy and start peering the potatoes.''

''Yes, Aunt P-tunia.'' The freak mispronounced due to the tremor in his voice. Really, could he act even more like a baby?

Harry trotted out of the room, leaving a weird atmosphere between the two remaining people, which Dudley did not like, and he did not like Harry for causing him such a mood.

''I'm sorry he ruined your game sweaty.'' His mom suddenly started, with her usual comforting and understanding voice in place. ''He is a bad boy.''

For some reason, Dudley knew this was familiar, but he expected something else from his mom, or more like, he felt him he wanted something else. Pushing those thoughts away, the child angrily stepped on few soldiers breaking them in the process: ''Those toys are stupid. You have to buy me knew ones.''

''Of course Duddkins.'' His mom smiled.

A decade later, as Dudley let the memory wash over his mind. The teen wondered if he had been as horrible as he remembered. He saw a small wizards inspect the cupboard and take out some of the soldiers Harry had gotten after him… few months later after mom decided that enough time passed to attempt to make her son change his mind about the plastic toys. Dudley turned around, and saw the only wizard currently inside who his mom seemed to know. The man was staring at him with an unreadable gaze.

OOO

Severus broke the legitimise spell as he ended his silent penetration of Dudley Durlsey's mind. The sixteen year old looked at him in confusion. If the blond bulk only knew he had just read his thoughts, the situation would have been more amusing.

''No! No! NO!'' A low voice boomed through the house, freezing its dozen occupants. ''I will not stand for this! All of you freaks get the hell out of my house! I'll call the police! Who the hell do you think you are to bargain into my house! OUT!''

The Potion Master distinguished immediately to whom the voice belonged. He met the gaze of the headmaster. Albus looked in the direction of the floor above with an expressionless face, before the man with the most classic wizard attire out of all present, calmly started to walk up the stairs, with the eyes of wizards and the Boy-Who-Lived's cousin trailing behind.

Dudley Durlsey, who had been leaning against a hallway wall, stood up in alarm and made to follow behind the Headmaster. Kingsley stopped his effort, and the sixteen year old shuggered off the hand that had been resting on his shoulder.

''Harry is not here. And your glaring around this house is not going to help anyone, trust me- I know.'' The youngest Dursley stated as he cast his gaze around the occupants of the room: ''You've seen what you wanted, now go, and look for Harry using that magic of yours.''

''We would if we could.'' Kingsley replied. ''The blood protection is enabling as to track him down.''

''So what? You're just going to seat around until someone crosses him on the street?'' The muggle shot back, looking at the order members and three minister officials like they had half a brain. ''He'll run, and he is damn good at it too. This is like the worst idea ever.''

''Do you know where he could be?''

''Somewhere on planet earth.'' The sixteen year old replied with disregard.

''Watch it kid, Harry is like family to us, and I have half a mind to curse your parents and you for all the pain you caused him.'' Fred Weasley cut in immediately after, in his hand he held his wand, yet the teen was unmoved by the image.

''And he withhold the truth from all of you for years.'' The sixteen year old shot back. He took few steps around the room, and Severus felt the conflict of emotion swing through his young mind: ''Let me introduce you to Harry Potter you all seem to have missed the past five years: he lies, he plans, he steals as he sees fit to survive. And yes, he is a self-sacrificing fool to top it all off. You knew little of this side of him, and I knew as little about the 'Hero from prophesis deal'. So we're even.''

 _Sounds rather Slytherine…_ The potion master thought with humourless humour. Why had the boy not ended in his house then? If he was truly the way his cousin portrayed him. Potter's brat's sorting had been the longest Severus had ever seen in his time at Hogwarts, and finally, a new light came on the reason behind the Gryffindor's long chat with the sorting hat. Severus swished to chuckle: a Potter to potentially be put in Slytherine, the Hero of the light in the house spoiled by the most dangerous dark wizard known… it was so comical that it was not even funny.

Whatever held the eleven year old at the time to take the path of the ambitious, Severus was thankful for it. It would have been so easy to manipulate the child at the time to join any side.

Suddenly, the muggle seemed to have enough, for he grabbed a black leather jacket and moved toward the front door. ''Fine, I'm done sitting on my ass.''

''What are you doing?'' Tonks demanded as she moved right behind the teenager.

''I am going to take a ride around the town.''

''It's dangerous out there! The Dea- the evil wizards are out on the look for Harry too. You're defenceless!''

''And here you proved yourself wrong today.'' The teenager shot back as he grabbed car keys from the door handle. ''Apparently I am included in the Blood Protection Deal.''

''You are too young to drive!'' The half-blood continued.

In response, Dudley Dursley showed Tonks a vulgar sign with his fist before proceeding to open the car. Suddenly, the fire inside the fireplace came to life as the last Weasley anyone expected made their way through. Percy Weasley noticed his father and three of his brothers in the room, yet other than a quick look paid them no comment.

''Mr Kingsley, Professor Snape, where is Headmaster Dumbledore?'' The Weasley asked as he turned his back on his father. _Really,_ Severus though, _there was far too much family drama of fools for anyone's taste._

''Upstairs. Do not stool Mr Weasley if you come with information.'' The potion master sneered at the young man's stupidity.

The red hair offered them an uneasy expression before announcing in a slightly louder voice, in order for the entire gathering to hear him: ''The ministry had tracked down a very significant use of accidental magic by an underaged wizard about five miles away. The aurors are being sent as we speak to investigate.''

''The address, Mr Weasley. Now.'' demanded Severus.

Before the red haired could reply, George Weasley stole the piece of parchment from his older brother's hand, then yelled with eagerness in the direction of the front door: ''Dudley you can start the car! I'm driving.''

''When hell freezes over.'' came the reply.


	9. All wise men

"There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man."  
― Patrick Rothfuss, _The Wise Man's Fear_

 _Chapter Nine_

Sam was lying motionless in the driver's seat. Patty however could not bring herself to crawl out of the position Harry helped her to. She pressed her back against the stone wall. Her cloths were still bloodied, however that was far from her most important concern as she judged how the hell hard she had hit her head: The sixteen year old girl saw adults with sticks which shot strange lights and made objects around move. Really, she had to have some major concussion… Yet, as seconds passed, the aching of her buries skin, the echoes of the dark street, and the angry screams transformed into a reality she wished she could close her eyes on.

Patty felt her arms growing weak. She exhaled heavily, with a whistle in her breath. The blood on her cloths was growing. Vaguely, the girl heard Harry speak: ''… but I agree with your husband on one thing, Bellatrix…'' Patty could not make sense of the rest, as she felt nothing more than tones of invisible waters press on her chest. Sometime later the feeling vanished, and she opened her drunken eyes to see many more people around then the dozen of freaks in black. Blue lights were swimming in a harmonic rhythm to her eyes, suggesting that the cups or medics had arrived. Patty welcomed the thought, before she slipped into dreamless sleep…

OOO

The Weasley twins eagerly made their way toward the front door. Severus frowned at the image, sensing in his gut that the two young men were far too inexperienced to involve themselves with the Order tasks. Damn it, he was starting to sound like an echo of Molly. The Potion Master blamed entirely Potter's brat and Petunia for awaking some twisted sense of morality in his heart by causing the amount of times he had to think of Lily today. Regardless, Arthur was present, so it was his fault if he failed to discipline accurately those two risk-taking Gryffindors.

The aurors present at Privet Drive were exiting in a hurry to be able to apparate. In the back of his mind, Severus wondered if he should inform Petunia for old time's sake that her only child was currently stealing her car… no, again, where was his business to do such a favour? Let the parents suffer the consequences.

The wooden stairs gave a sound of protest as the Headmaster started to walk down. His eyes were twinkling madly, with an urgency that the Potion Professor had not seen in two years. Percy Weasley quickly informed his former Headmaster of the situation. Whereas to his family the young man was ignorant, he looked uncomfortable facing the old wizard whose name he had agreed to tame repetadly in the past year.

Yet Dumbeldor was Dumbeldor, and he smiled kindly at the foolish wizard who was bearly more than a teenager. The Headmaster turned immediately in his direction with a pointed gaze, and urged him quietly to follow. Surprised, the Potion Master did. The two arrived on the green law before closing the kitchen door. Albus cast silencing charms, serving only to increase the thirty six year old's ill feelings.

''The situation turned out to be more complicated then I originally assumed.''

''Some clarity to your words would be welcomed.'' Returned Severus as he crossed his arms against the evening's chill.

The headmaster gazed at the moonless night. His eyes were narrowed in thought as spoke to his much younger friend: ''I looked into the memories of Vernom Dursley, and saw the amount of time they punished the boy for magic…'' the old cot trailed off, earning a raised eyebrow from his younger college. ''… children are not supposed to show a decrease in their accidental magic activity. The exact opposite is expected. However, Harry clearly shows such a trail.''

''Is it that surprising that he learn to control some of it in self-preservation?'' Severus questioned doubtful. ''If this is nothing more than your musing Albus, you are wasting our time.''

''There is no control in what I saw, but pure suppression.'' The white bearded wizard's eyes were lost their usual calmness as his voice turned almost harsh: ''Severus, the boy threw an adult man across a room at the age of three. He survived falling from a window as barely a two year old and influenced the current of electricity from his first days at this house. May be I was blind, but I had not seen anything this remarkable during his stay at Hogwarts… but when the Dark Lord was seconds from taking his life.''

The potion master rose an eyebrow at his employer, perplexed. Severus thought back to the news that Potter's brat had been able to fight off the killing curse with a simple disarming charm. Creating a patrounous at thirteen when a wizard's magic should be far too immature to concentrate enough to handle such a spell, let alone hold it to be efficient against hundreds of Dementors. Indeed, it was remarkable, he had heard it enough times from the staff at Hogwarts to cause him a head ache.

Severus narrowed his eyes at his mentor, unsure where Dumbeldor was going on with this. During the school setting, the boy was average at best. The remarkable Harry Potter was but fragments of facts created by the imagination of those who hoped for a solution to the threat of the Dark Lord.

''Tom did learn to control his magic…'' he suddenly muttered out loud.

''Albus.'' Warned Severus, unamused by the old cot's lack of explanation. Did the Headmaster take some pleasure for having him as an audience? Seriously, sometimes the Potion Master wondered if Dumbeldor made it his hobby to aggravate those around him.

''I am starting to fear my boy, that Harry's situation regarding the state of his magic is very similar to my sister's.''

Severus blinked, deciding to humour the old fool: ''And what happened to her…?'' The Potion Master guessed to use the past tense, for he had never heard of such a woman before.

As if by a spell, Dumbeldor's thoughtful eyes closed off as he recomposed himself. The younger man was bewildered at such a strong reaction from the usually calm old wizard. Albus was truly starting to worry him.

''I need to talk to Aberforth.''

''You need to go and knock some sense into your Golden Boy.'' Countered the raven haired wizard with a sneer.

''No Severus, my presence may only serve to infuriate Harry. If I am correct, I need you to make sure he is calm and safe before we'll have to inform him of the severity of his transgressions… and the consequences.''

Severus had to admit, his eyes did widen slightly at the last verse. Since when did Dumbeldor decide to hold the Boy-Who-Lived accountable for his actions? The two had gone through too much effort in the past hours to hide any possibility for the ministry to trail him for the use of imperious curse. Moreover, Albus would not expel Harry Potter, no matter how much the child would deserve it. For a person who threatened to punish the boy daily, Severus realized- with strong distaste- that he had become protective of the boy against the headmaster. Truly, if Lily had a way to see all of this, she should be thankful… at least slightly.

Dumbeldor's voice brought him back to the garden the two were standing out: ''And do not forget Severus, I am still waiting for your proposition to solve Harry's living arrangements.'' The old-withholding-information-cot announced with a twinkle in his eyes, before apparating away.

Damn-

''Severus? Why are all the freaks gone?'' A familiar voice called from behind. The blond woman exited onto her porch with slippers. She was pulling a cotton jumper around her arms as she approached him. ''Where is my Dudley?''

The raven haired man rose an eyebrow at her, sceptically judging if she was worth his breath: ''They went to find your nephew, where I-''

''I don't care about them! Where is my son?''

''I answered your question.'' The potion master sneered, not appreciating that she was raising again her tone on him.

''What? Why didn't you stop him!'' Petunie screeched.

''Since when should I care?'' Severus intended it as a rhetorical question, and with an irritated sight, started to apparate away- only a hand grabbed his shoulder before he disappeared.

The muggle and half-blood felt compressed by a narrow tube before falling on the wet London concrete. Severus took a shallow breath, unprepared to have a passenger with him, while Petunia fell to the floor holding her stomach painfully.

''You stupid- careless- idiotic-''

''Oh, shut up Snape and help me up.'' She sneered at him from her pathetic position.

''Forget it.'' He returned as he dusted off his robes.

''Git.''

 _Merlin help me,_ the wizard pleaded, fighting off the impulse to curse her unnaturally blond hair off. Petunia's body convulsed briefly. She sat up, making herself look utterly miserable. The potion master rolled his eyes at her theatrics. She might have an upset stomach from the trip she forced herself onto, however, she at least could pretend to maintain some form of dignity. Her chance was lost, as the forty year old put her head between her knees, to keep herself from throwing up.

He couldn't waste his time on that poor excuse of a woman. He had appareated two streets away from the given address as a precaution, thankfully. Severus turned around and started to walk in the direction of worrisome noises of fighting.

''You're not going to leave me here, are you?'' Petunia's still weak voice echoed through the narrow passage between two Victorian buildings.

''Get a _normal_ taxi.'' He shot back ''Petunia.''

''Severus.'' She cut in with an angry grimace: ''I need to find my son before those freaks get to him… please.'' She said so with so much loathing that the word could hardly be taken for it's linguistic meaning. Unmoved, the younger adult continued, before he heard her speak up with more passion: ''Lily would be ashamed of you for being such a glib snob. You made it your mission to protect her son? What does he have that my Dudley doesn't?!''

The wizard responded with the utmost bored tone: ''A prophesy to save the world, for starters. Your son is but a meaningless pawn in this war.''

Her glare was strong, yet without effect. Her words however, took on a different edge: ''Dudley is Lily's nephew, so don't be such a royal disappointment and start truly to protect her family.''

Severus finally gave into her temptation. He turned to face her with a hateful expression. The wizard articulate every word very slowly, with his wand in his hand for all to see: ''You are unbelievable! _Tunie_ , you cannot imagine how lucky you are to be Lily's sister this very moment. Walk away when I tell you to.''

Without further ado, the Potion Master turned swiftly toward the source of the muggle police cars. Severus had to admit, the emotion swimming in his gut was resembling worry. Behind himself, he started to hear scratching of leather slippers against the rough concrete. He clenched his fist as he commented silently: _stubborn woman!_

OOO

Patty's eyes were still closed, but the girl was aware of the warmth around her limbs. Funny, how she could swear she had the softest of blankets on her, while in reality there were only her damp cloths which should bring her nothing but cold.

She opened her eyes, feeling refreshed like never before. Her pain was gone, and so were the once bleeding cuts. The sixteen year old girl looked in amazement at the emerald gaze by her side.

''How is this possible?'' She breathed out. ''You did this?''

''I don't know. I- I wanted you to be healed and now you just are. Not that I'm complaining'' He spoke back, with an urgency in his voice. ''I don't know how I'm doing those things around me- I mean I know- but I can't control it.''

Patty glanced curiously behind him, to see the dozen of magicians fallen to the ground. The street looked like a complete mess, while wild wind was once again moving the area around.

''You're the one causing those strange hurricanes?'' She whispered, far too amazed to feel self-conscious as she continued to stare at him.

''Obviously.'' His drunken voice allowed. ''Never knew I could go this far…'' He whispered, however to himself.

''You are bleeding.'' Patty cut in as her eyes widened. It was not just the nose, which bones had merged together. There was blood slipping from his ears too, his skin was paler then she ever saw- even as a child- while dark circled were pronounced under his eyes. ''You're weakening.''

''Yeah…'' He allowed. ''Don't tell them though.''

His gaze searched those who had attacked them. As one tried to get up, Harry raised his hand, and the man was throw against the wall. A clicking sound echoed down the street. It was familiar, and brought goose dumps on her skin: Police officers were blocking one side of the street, with their armoury raised high, and confusion on their face at whom they should aim their guns at.

''Patty listen.'' Harry whispered urgently into her ear, blocking the view of their conversation with his own body. ''You need to run away. The policemen are safe, but the others want me dead. They will try to kill you the first chance they get. Run as fast as you can, I'll cover you. Do not look back. Do not stop, no matter what you are going to see me do.''

Her hands were shaking from her own adrenaline. She managed to force her head to nod, while her mouth was dead dry. Patty calculated quickly the distance between herself and the coops. Harry slowly took out a stick similar to the one their attackers held. She forgot to take a breath at the sight. She made the connection.

Should she be afraid of him? Geez, she had let that guy sleep in her house the previous night, with her poor old grandmother and ten year old brother on the other side of the wall. Her own irresponsibility frightened her.

Harry squeezed her hand in reassurance and to wake her up from her daydream. She tensed her muscles, knowing time came for her to play her part. She had no choice but to trust him.

''Boy, put your hands up in the air!'' A police man yelled from the side. Harry closed his eyes, as if looking for patience. Patty swallowed, and squeezed her childhood's friend's hand back. The raven haired boy understood her signal, and nodded: ''Three.''

''Two'' she played along, scared tears falling from her eyes. ''One''

'' _Expelliarmus!''_

Patty threw herself into a sprint in the direction of the blue lights. She ran blindly ahead. An explosion echoed from behind her, and she almost tripped in her march. She saw a man extend a hand to her while still aiming the other at the fight behind.

'' _Confringo_ _!''_

 _''Protego !''_

In safety, the sixteen year old watched magic before her eyes being cast back and forth. The combat was fast, strong and deadly as all the dualist slowly destroyed the area. A stranger caught her shoulders and guided her away from the warzone. A police officer was about to guide her to an ambulance, when the man froze. Patty looked up to see a woman with purple hair holding the foreign weapon. The girl took a step back, petrified that more had come for Harry.

 _''_ Petrificus Totalus _'' The woman in her early twenties cursed. The policeman next to Patty fell down, immobile, while the girl gave a startled scream._

She gazed at the caramel skinned sixteen year old with obvious intent, and the girl gave out a panicked cry: ''Harry! Help!''

The woman paused, her eyes widening in surprise. She lowered her arm slightly, with the stick pointed to the ground. She opened her mouth to speak, and was suddenly thrown to the side. She hit her head against the ground, while her hair morphed to black.

The witch who had caused the accident was laughing cruelly at their side. Patty watched the scene feeling sick, thinking that her eyes were lying to her for the two woman seemed physically similar. The old witch advanced at the much younger woman.

Patricia started to run away, finally noticing that there were many more magical people on the street then before. The wild was picking up again, while few cars seemed at the point of being taken away upwards with the magical storm. Her eyes immediately searched for Harry, who was standing at the centre of all the chaos with an unnatural stoicism.

Windows in the building around exploded one by one in a quick rhythmic pattern. The people in black struggled to keep standing, especially when a blast of force pushed them to the ground, while the fallen metal bended and meddled to become cages around them. Harry was kneeling by this point, looking exhausted.

And then as if by a spell, the wind creased, leaving a circle of bewildered adults around the raven haired fifteen year old.

''Harry Potter, in the name of the ministry of Magic, I order you to give up your wand.'' A man exclaimed with a significant belly.

They all watched as the fifteen year old took deep shallow breaths. Finally, he caught enough oxygen to glare tiredly at the man: ''You've got to be kidding me Fudge.''

The man, Fudge, it seemed, turned redder around the cheeks, before announcing once again in a louder voice: ''You are an underage wizard who-''

''You are the fool who leaves an underage wizard to do his work!'' Harry spat back. ''I used magic in self-defence and in the defence of the girl who is standing behind you. I broke no law.''

The venom in his voice startled them all, and earned a couple of witches to lower their wands. The old man turned to look at Patty, as many present did, and his unkind eyes examined her critically before an idea shown through his eyes. She swallowed, unsure.

''You had revealed to her the existence of our world.'' The man accused.

''Only an idiot like you could miss to see when Death Eaters start to apparate in front of your own face!'' The teenager returned furious. A pipe with water exploded from a bricked wall, adding to the effect as most of the gathering jumped up.

OOO

The Hogwarts's potion professor looked at the fallen Death Eater's. Some were unconscious, other were bonded too tightly to be able to reach for their wand. He saw Bellatrix, glaring to the right, and noticed the fallen young woman. Kingsley was already by her side, and asked quietly if he had a pepper up potion on him.

Severus gave him one with a disinterested expression, his eyes examining quickly the entire scene. Petunia was staying by his side like a leech, but he decided to ignore her in the hope that none of the present Death Eaters would think to question him about her later. He prayed he was saved from having to explain why the Boy-Who-Lived's aunt was trustful toward him when the woman noticed her car, and run to her son.

''Someone take him to St Muglos, under strict surveillance.'' Fudge's finally swallowed his embarrassment enough to create a complete sentence. ''And oblivate all the muggles!''

Two young auror's stood out of the circle and slowly approached the boy. Severus clenched his teeth, questioning why had Albus ever sent him here in his place? He did not hold the authority of the Headmaster, nor could he openly stand up in Potter's brat defence with so many Death Eaters watching the scene like parasites in rain.

''Dumbeldor had asked for him to be taken back to Hogwarts.'' Kingsley cut in before his colleges would execute their order. The Weasley twins nodded, at the point of saying another argument when they were cut of by a frustrated voice.

''Dumbeldore clearly doesn't know how to control a teenager boy.'' The Minister of Magic shot back. ''Until I make a further decision, Mr Potter becomes legally the ward of the ministry until a suitable offer is-''

''You are mad if you think I'll let myself be ruled by the ministry.'' The fifteen year old spoke softly, stopping the two aurors who were about to approach him, due to the fury in the saviour's quiet voice. ''Curtesy to Dolores Umbridge, I have now scars on my hand from a Blood Quill. Look, it says: ''I will not tell lies'', so I will not lie: I prefer to go back to the Dursley's then with your employees. My relatives may be bad, but they aren't sick enough to make me cut myself as punishment and enjoy their tea while they watch me do so. Again, again and again, for an entire year.''

From pink to white to red, it was amazing how clear Fudge's emotions were: ''I assure you Mr Potter, you will be under the best protection possible. Do stop fighting with me, for no matter how tragic your… past years had been, you should be thankful to me that I am willing to cast a blind eye on your transgressions.''

From his kneeling position, the pale fifteen year old finally stood up. The stench of alcohol was radiating off him, together with wider retinas. If it had not been clear before, now all with half a brain knew the origins of Harry Potter's mood to confess. Yet the situation took a different angle, when the boy demanded in a humoured tone: ''Are you threatening me?''

''I am merrily informing you of your situation. You cause more chaos then good.''

The boy nodded, before letting a humorous chuckle escape his lips. ''Let's sum up the past year. I told you Voldemort was back: You ignored me. I had dementors attack Dudley-here- and I; so I used magic to defend our lives: You wanted to put me in Azkaban. The Death Eaters grew in power: You did nothing. I repeated my warnings: you called me crazy. With all due respect minister: If you don't want me around, then by all means, I will not force myself upon any of you. So, here I came to my conclusion when I was drinking- you can call it an experiment of sorts: From now I'll do nothing, and we'll see how well the Aurors deal with You-Know-Who.''

''You are bluffing.''

The Boy Who Lived smirked. A chilling drunken smile which held carelessness. The fifteen year old took a wand from his pocket. The entire gathering had missed to take a breath when the boy broke the wood in half. Green sparks flew around his hands, before they settled into nothingness. Fudge took a step to the side, as the shock caused him to waver in his balance. The potion master swallowed slowly, calculating the possibility that the wand had been the stolen one. Potter's shields were down, but his mind was such a chaos of feelings which prevented the Potion Master to focus on any specific thought without using a direct spell.

''Harry.'' Dudley Dursley broke the silence immediately with some anxiousness, but mostly confusion. ''Am we supposed to get out of here?''

Potter's brat rose his arms in disinterest at his cousin: ''You can stay for the show. If dear Minister Fudge here is going to be a prideful imbecilic to make his men stay, then out of everyone present in the area, you are one of the most likely to survive the night.''

The Saviour-child extended his hand to the side, as if waiting for someone to give him something. The death eaters and aurors alike watched as the sharp pieces of the broken bottle of liquor reassembled themselves on their eyes, before the liquid too made it's way inside. The most annoying brat in the universe took a sip of the substance, just to prove a point, obviously, before throwing himself, like a drunk only could, to sit on some damp sofa, put on the street to be taken with the trash. He looked at the gathering confused for a moment, before taking another sip.

''Ehm, Did I forget to mention that Voldemort is coming here in person? I can sense him, you would know if you ever listened to be before. And Minister Fudge: if you can't put little-young-me down, show me how the bloody hell are you going to attempt to fight _The Dark Lord_. I am really, really curious.''


	10. Out at Night

"People like us don't go out at night cause people like them see us for what we are"  
― Charles Dickens, _Oliver Twist_

 _Chapter Ten_

Dudley was aware he knew far less than a pinch of dust about the wizard world. Therefore, the sixteen year old awaited trouble. Harry, on the other hand, was the pretence of relaxation. The cousin was not fooled though. The fifteen year old looked like crap, and honestly, in other circumstance, Dudley would have been inclined to make bets on when the _Saviour_ would collapse straight on his face.

''Seconds tick by Fudge. Make a decision.'' taunted Harry. However, his cool tone was off. There was too much soreness in his voice. One who knew not the teenager would interpret it as illness. Yet, Dudley had beaten the same person far too many times, to not know that it was pain.

''I will not be threatened by a child!''

The young boxer rolled his eyes. One needed great patience to deal with that man. On the other hand, only a blind person could see health in the image Harry was making of himself. Not only was he drunk, he looked exhausted, and frankly, at the end of his rope. Harry's condition did put forward the question if he was simply joking. As in, trying to get people scared to lay off his back. Harry could be playing on time, and lying. The youngest of all present looked like he could not take much more, but then, what did Dudley knew about him? Apparently, according to ginger freak one and two, his cousin had fought a damned dragon.

''Does not matter anymore, He is here.''

Dudley tensed, however, it had less to do with actual words, and more to do with the fact that all those wizards jumped. Their reaction was intense, whether they were the Death Eaters or the good guys. For them all to be terrified, Dudley wondered how deeply Harry was screwed in the entire prophesies deal.

The young boxer yelled across the street toward his cousin: ''Harry, you idiot, stop whatever you are doing!''

Harry turned his gaze in his direction. Dudley saw it clearly: reproach, bitterness and determination had settled in the youth's gaze. At this moment, Dudley could not have felt guiltier that the boy across the street was more like a stranger then family, and he knew he was in part responsible for it.

''You hate us? Fantastic! But those ginger freak-friends of yours are as much here as I am, as that old-guy is, and as much as all the other innocent people in the damned area! As much as you are! Get your head back on earth Harry!''

''Don't give that look Big D, I told you all to run.'' The insufferable mess of trouble shot back. And yet, may be it was wishful thinking, but Dudley saw some of the determination fade away.

OOO

Severus felt the mark tinkle on his arm. He schooled his expression, increased his shields, and prayed that he will not find himself tonight in a position to end his spying days once and for all today.

Potter's brat petulantly looked to the side, before continuing to nurse his drink with a faraway gaze. The air around the muggle area slowed-down. People around must have been praying that the shadows were playing tricks on their eyes. Yet, as silently as a ghost, the Dark Lord suddenly stood in the middle of it all.

His terrible red eyes scanned the crowed with amusement. All the fallen Death Eaters knew well that their master was looking into the thoughts of all present. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named stood there, with a thoughtful expression on his face, before the smallest of smiles gestured upon his lips, spilling of cruelty.

Severus watched as his Master freed all those pathetic followers of his from the binds put on by Potter's brat. The Aurors stood with the perfect dueling stance, yet what was it to Voldemort? When the echo of the man simply snapped his fingers with a quick spell to make them all crumble to the ground.

Of course, Severus, as the Potion Master and spy, was spared of it, even if he came with the Order. By a humor of the universe, Petunia with her son stood behind him, even if there was a significant distance between them all. Either Voldemort had not noticed them, did not wish to challenge the blood protection, or very simply, knew he had nothing to fear from the unarmed muggles.

Fudge was grasping on his breath. Severus swallowed. He had always thought lowly of the man, yet when he saw the prideful fool face the monster, he felt the tiniest drop of sympathy for the man's terror.

''Good-evening Minister, Dear Aurors… Harry.'' The Dark Lord's amusement won over, and the man laughed to the discomfort of all. Even the Death Eaters, those who had some sense, knew their master will be furious later due to their incompetence from before.

The Boy-Who-Lived openly ignored Voldemort. Taking another sip of the drink as if the rest of the world did not exist. Voldemort's temper was short, for in the next moment the bottle was crashed against a wall.

Potter looked pointlessly at his empty hand, and finally gave prove of being at least slightly aware by muttering: ''Mean.''

''I see you had quite some fun tonight? Hm? Though I must admit, your speech from moments ago has spiked my curiosity. Are you truly able to let those people die on your watch? Just like that?''

''I warned them all like three times. What was I supposed to do? Imperio them all to save themselves? It's their life.'' The teenager muttered skeptically.

''And yet _you_ had not left.'' Voldemort stated, waving his wand around and causing the binds that had previously hold down the Death Eaters to now immobilize practically anyone else who held magic on the street and was not marked. Alastor almost won his battle, if not six Death Eaters had jumped in to pull him down.

Potter's brat remained silent. The Dark Lord slowly approached the fifteen year old, making Severus's hands clench, before he forced them to relax.

''So much anger. So much envy. So much power. Tell me Harry, blood purity aside, and the battle of dark against white too, why have you always refused my offers to join me?'' Voldemort's words earned may shocked gazes, together with dread.

The drunk boy said the truth, it was clear by his entire posture: ''You're a monster. You killed many, including my parents.''

''Ah yes, you speak of the boy from the Triwizard Tournament? He was a whimp, I'm sure everyone had already forgotten about him. Two words, and he was gone. Hm, who else? Oh, right! The Weasley girl. A somewhat beauty today, I'll admit, yet so easy to mess around, until she knows herself no longer.''

OOO

''And, please Harry, of all the deaths I should be guilty for, your mudblooded mother was not one of them. She jumped in front of my spell. I had not entered that house with the thought of her demise. She was supposed to be a reward to one of my Death Eaters. Her death, can only be blamed on her. You know to agree with me, after all, I do make sure you relive those moments in your sleep.'' Dudley heard the monster say. The disgust the teenager felt was nothing he had ever experienced in his life.

''It's probably because I am drunk, but I pity you, Tom. You truly do not understand emotions.'' Harry replied thoughtfully, being the one least unaffected by what they saw. At the thought that those were his cousin's nightmares, even more so that they were memories, Dudley honestly wanted to puke. Yet, the fifteen year old continued, making needles turn in all of their stomachs: ''If you ever truly considered making me an ally, then, why did I always feel that you want to take me down to my grave?''

''When I kill someone, they're supposed to stay dead.''

''That can be irritating.'' The raven haired boy agreed as his gaze was turned to the side, he turn his glassy drunken eyes on the monster as he replied with a pointed half-smile: ''I would know.''

''Indeed'' The Dark Lord assured in the friendliest voice, making goose dumps appear on Dudley's skin, ''. I've been in your head Harry, I know all about you: You're not Slytherin enough to risk their lives''

Harry rose his eyes high in the air, closing one of his eyes as if in deep concentration. He tilted his head toward the side, resting it on his shoulder, before giving his arch enemy an unreadable look: ''Makes you the fifth person to underestimate me today.''

Suddenly, his cousin took out his wand, and attacked the other. The monster was quick to dodge his spell. The Order Members had a new light in their eyes. Hope probably came back to them, as they realized what Dudley already knew: Harry was unpredictable when furious, but he was a dump sacrificing fool. The Death Eaters moved to help, yet the red eyed freak stopped their advance with a wave of his hand, determination settling in his murderous gaze.

Voldemort let lighting out of his hand, which Harry dodged. This cousin yelled the word: ''Dobby!'' before something with eyes appeared in the middle of the warzone, yet the creature was quick to take action to attack Voldemort from the back.

''Kreacher!'' Another name it seemed, for a similar green skinned thing blinked into existence before their eyes. The elf saw Harry in trouble, casting _protego_ every three seconds. The Kreacker-thing caused the fallen brinks around to speed in the direction of Voldemort and his followers, yet the Dark Lord overpowered his spell, and threw the creature into a wall himself, causing the thing to fall down on the ground like a bag of potatoes.

The other green thing, Dobby, was quick by his friend's side. He put his hand on the ground, and spelled the floor to ice. Harry tried to attack from the side to make Voldemort loss his footing. Yet, the adult wizard was not that impressed. With a cruel smirk he transformed the water to fire, chasing the poor thing away.

The fire soon transformed into a hell resembling a snake, and flying toward Harry. The unfirmly standing teen had his eyes widened, and only a cloud of white smoke appeared as he suddenly found himself away from the boiling stones, and even closer to the dark wizard.

Harry obviously had not controlled the place he was materializing in again, for it was just next to the monster. Voldemort caught his throat with one hand, before throwing the fifteen year old into a wall with inhuman force. Harry lost his breath, as his eyes became glassy. Dudley swallowed with trembling hands. The police-wizards were looked with frightened useless gazes from their bound or wounded positions.

Dudley felt the contradictory urge to punch the monster in the face, yet he wished not to end like his Aunt Lily- it was strange to think of his mother's sister in such a way. The dark wizard walked slowly toward him before raising Harry up in the air like a doll, with a sneer on his face.

''Fool, you think you have a chance against me? You are nothing but a child, molded into a weapon by Dumbeldor for his own use. A toy.'' He hissed to his ear with humor. Harry's head must have cleared out, for he grimaced in fury with more aware eyes.

''You know what? You were right Tom. I was never planning to put people's lives at risk.'' The fifteen year old grasped out loud as he struggled against the Dark Lord. His breath was shallow, yet it echoed with force against the Victorian buildings, ''But, guess what? I'm a freak.''

Harry put out a hand in the direction of a building. With a concentrated grimace, he shouted _accio,_ before the metal sped toward him. It did not slow down, instead, the metal went straight through the smaller 's wizards shoulder, and right into Voldemort's chest.

The noseless freak stumbled backwards. Dudley watched to see the wound, yet Harry had clearly gotten that monster in a lung. Regardless, Voldemort was wounded severely, for he suddenly dematerialized from the poor London street… only to reappear few meters to the side.

'' _AVADA KEDAVA!''_

The green flame was approaching his cousin. Knowing what will come, Dudley thought the urge to through-up. Harry ducted out, looking like he twisted his ankle on the way. The place where Harry stood a moment ago was now deserted. Most of the wall collapsed, while many other bricks were falling spontaneously. His cousin managed to get his wand firmly in his hand, before yelling a different spell.

'' _Expelliarmus!''_

The entire matter took a surprising turn, when Voldemort screamed the same word. For a strange reason, harmless lighting passed between the two wizards, before both of their wands flew out of their hands, and landed in the grasp of their enemy. Harry stared transfixed at the stick he now held. Obvious confusion and shock radiated off his expression, as he looked bewildered toward the Dark Lord, who was now holding his wand. Just by the pause in their cursing, Dudley suspected that this was not intended from either wizard.

Dudley felt his mom sneak the keys out of his hand. He let her, far too preoccupied by the fight. The wizards shot spells out of each other's wands, only to cause an explosion as the magic of the two met. The sheer wave from it caused many to fall to the ground, while lighting sparks erupted all around to accompany their previously less messy duel.

The muggle teen could see his shadow behind reflected on the bricked floor… wait, shadow? There had been no lantern with yellow light behind him. Feeling threatened by the possibility of one of those freaks trying to attack him from the back, Dudley made a move toward the side and watched what had been behind. He found there his parents' car, with his mother inside. Her face was deathly pale. Her gaze hard a stone. Dudley swallowed, unable to put a name to his mother's expression. Was she so scared that she was about to drive away? Leave Harry? Even leave him? Her son had a hard time to understand what was going in her head to choose to raise his cousin the way she did, now, Dudley wondered if he had ever seen his mom as anything else then his mom, and not the entire person she was.

The blond woman turned the keys in the car, and the motor came to life. Other wizards noticed, and one of the evil ones let out an amused chuckle, laughing at the non-magical woman. The car moved… yet, it was to the front, and not to the back. It took less than three seconds, while his mom pushed the gas pedal to its maximum, the motor screaming in protest, while she accelerated straight on the monster who had murdered her sister.

It was to be expected, he tried to jump out the way by transforming into his shadowed version. However, to all their astonishment, she managed to hit him with the edge of the car, making to Dark Lord tumble down toward the ground while he held his obviously broken legs with a painful grimace.

Harry started with eyes wider then Dudley had ever seen, and so did the rest of the gathering, disregarding of the group they belonged to.

''That's for my sister, you bastard.''

The monster looked at her furiously, while his hand started to slowly close into a fist. Simultaneously, the car started to shrink on itself, with his mother still inside.

''Harry! Do something!'' Dudley heard himself yell before he even formulated the thought.

''Aunt jump out!''

She launch at the passage door, pulling the door handle furiously, before trying to push her way free open. Both attempts failed, as the car condensed while the monster smirked. The air stirred again as the gathering watched the scene. Harry attempted to stand up, yet his bad foot made him stumble. A white fume appeared around the teenager. The kid Dudley had ''Harry Hunted'' shot out of the spot he was standing at like a bullet.

Just like Voldemort seemed capable of flying before, his enemy did so too, directly targeting the Dark Lord, pushing him far away which made the freak loose concentration on the magic, before the two wizards crashed into the half-collapsing abandoned building. Whatever the two did inside next, had caused the six floors of brinks to rush downwards, leaving unbreathable smoke in its place.

Chaos erupted as the cracking sounds echoed all around. Someone grabbed him, it was luckily one of the ginger twin freaks, before Dudley felt compressed by a narrowed tube. He disappeared hearing a feminine scream and another wicked laugh, and seeing the curly-black haired witch roughly grab the girl who was always changing her appearance.

OOO

Snape held a cloth to his face, using his wand to push away the dust in the air. The scar on his hand was not burning, yet it was ever present. Voldemort was alive, yet, where in the world was Potter. For all his logic, he prayed that the child had apparated away. The smoke was clearing, letting him see vaguely the completely collapsed building.

There was no time to waste, he had to inform Albus of this. Severus apparate straight in front the gates of Hogwarts, where the wards ended, only to stop in shock. A ragged body with a dirty mod of raven hair was lying by the entrance.

He took Potter's brat in his arms. The Dark Lord's wand fell from his unconscious hands, and with reculance Snape levitated it to be place in his pocket. The Potion Professor quickly cast spells to enable the two to pass inside Hogwarts without being seen. He walked steadily toward the castle. Snape felt the coldness radiating off the fifth year student. The child's heart was erratic, most likely due to the severe blood loose the boy had been subjected to.

Severus walked the way to the infirmary, only to find the chambers dark and empty. He almost hoped Ron Weasley was still being treated, for then there would be someone to question where in the world Poppy had wondered off to. Yet, the old mediwitch was missing, and the issue in his arms was a more important than this inconvenience.

Snape changed his trajectory and made his way to his own quarters. He focused on his spells. Though the hour was late, he could never be certain if the children of Death Eaters decided or not to disregard the curfew. For all the twisted humor of the Universe, Flinch had passed by them on the stairs. At least, only the fat cat had smelled their presence. The useless caretaker was too much of an idiot to understand the source of Mrs Norriss distress.

Potter was shivering, and the Potion Master sped up his space. The boy was light for a fifteen year old, smaller than his father had been at the same age too. This did not signify that his arms were not growing tired. Severus Snape pressed the boy closer, to ease the aching muscles and to reduce that child's shaking.

He entered the quarters and slowly lied Potter's brat down on the living room couch. The Potion Master teared the sleeve of the white shirt off, revealing the repulsing wound. The bleeding was reducing on its own, yet the marvelous healing abilities the Boy Who Lived's cousin claimed the existence of were absent. The child let out a pained wince as the Potion Master gently place his hand on the boy's wrist to feel the pulse. The man rolled the sleeve away only to notice the large buries forming from the brutal fight with the Dark Lord.

Severus started with a double dose of the blood replenishing potion, followed by the pepper up potion to give the abused body energy to regenerate. By the time he was holding a calming draught to the boy's lips, Potter's brat's emerald eyes few open as he weakly flinch away from the man.

''Calm yourself.'' The thirty six year old instructed. ''You are at Hogwarts.''

The boy's eyes were glassy, and it took the rebellious teen dozens seconds before the information was processed. In the meantime, Severus administered following potions, before he'll have to take care of the ripped tissues and possibly broken bones.

The boy took deep breaths as his half opened eyes studied every move of his most despised teacher. Although, considering what they all learn of Umbrindge this evening, he possibly was the boy's second most despised Professor. For a strange reason, Severus felt angry about the information, even more, when he held the teen's hand to examine the scar. Potter did not have enough energy to pull the hand away, though the teenager tried to do so. With a stoic expression, Severus set the hand back down. The scar would fade, he knew how to speed the process up too, but if the boy wanted the souvenir of his fifth year's Defence against Dark Arts Professor removed, then only a glamour would be efficient.

''Brace yourself. This is going to burn.'' The Potion Master advised before cleaning the rip on both sides of the fifteen year old's shoulder. He probably had managed to break a record by how fast he had completed the task. Despite his continuous dislike toward the boy for the past five years, he did not enjoy the boy tensed when he felt the healing salve take effect. Severus proceeded to bandage the wound tightly with his wand, knowing that the next steps in order to heal the rip could wait. He used his redded hand to conjure a patronous, before the animal sped past the ancient walls, out to search Dumbeldor.

''If you were not this drunk, I could have given you proper painkillers.'' He muttered in a scolding tone to the boy, unsure what else he could do. He took notice of the boy's heavily swelled ankle, and with a basic spell diagnosed it to be just twisted. He moved the boy's shirt slightly, to notice buries forming on his back from being slammed into a wall. At least, Potter had no broken bones. Finally, the Potion Master remembered that the numbing spell was save to use. It would paralyses the desired parts of the body, yet would also make the situation far easier by numbing the nerves.

Potter choose the moment to gather his strengths and scoop away from his Professor as far as the sofa let him. Severus continued his spell casting despite the boy's protest, deciding that he would not waste his breath on the half aware fool. Silence doomed over his quarters before Potter's confused tone broke in a hoarse voice: ''At least we know now that I'm a better at magic than I knew.''

''You have more luck then brain cells, that is what we know for sure.'' The Potion Master sneered down at the wounded child. ''As for your magical talents, unless you are planning to walk into a battle against the Dark Lord with absolute loss of control and pray for accidental magic to save your worthless hide, you are just as useless as you were two days ago, Potter. Potential means nothing without practice.''

''I'd like to practice.'' The teenager muttered in a way of backtalk.

''Shut up and try to keep your foot still.'' Severus ordered, gently taking the limb, to test the effectiveness of his spell. The Boy-Who-Lived seemed unaware of the movement, therefore Snape continued to apply a mixture of three salves before bandaging the area. During this time, Potter was on the verge of dozing off. What gave the boy the idea he had such a right was lost on the thirty-six year old.

''Your Hogsmate privilege is forever cancelled. You will redo every single essay you had to hand in for my class. If I will see a reason to suspect anyone helped _the poor Savior_ , or you fail to complete the task, you will redo every assignment in every class you took at Hogwarts. Furthermore, if I hear of you touching alcohol, I'll make sure you won't graduate.'' _And that's just the beginning,_ Severus thought with some satisfaction.

''Mhhh-Hmmm'' The fifteen year old nodded sleeply.

''You are not allowed to risk your life.'' This time, he did not even receive an unconscious nod from the fool.

Severus put a thick blanket around his pale student. The Potion Professor leaned against the back of his chair. He let out a sigh of relief as he gazed at his work. He'll make sure to force some pinch of sense into the nuisance tomorrow. Now, he'll let Lily's brat heal.


End file.
